


A Deep-Sworn Vow

by FrostDragonsSkies



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Bilingual Character(s), Canonical Character Death, Character Development, Character Study, Destroy Ending, Developing Relationship, Feels, Headcanon, M/M, Male Slash, Multi, Original Character(s), Pining, Romance, Slash, So much angst, Temporary Character Death, but not for long, way more than I ever intended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostDragonsSkies/pseuds/FrostDragonsSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard's life has been neither here nor there for many years. Mindoir haunts his dreams just as surely as the current threat to the galaxy does since an encounter with someone he used to know. He had doubts that a rag-tag crew can really help him learn to live again when he has repeated his life's greatest failure. One person at least always seems to know just what to say even when he himself doesn't know how to start feeling again and he's head over heels for a man who now hates his guts before he even realizes it. Follows the plot of ME 1, 2 and 3, mostly my head canon with some minor canon divergences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Scars and Broken Promises

**Author's Note:**

> First off, a forewarning that this first chapter contains some rather awful graphic violence that I attempted to tone down a bit, but brace yourself and do not say you were unwarned. Secondly, the rating and tagging is subject to change as I update things. This chapter is mostly a (super long) precursor to the story, just a bit of character development and sub-plot introduction. I hope you brought a snorkel because I did a lot of lore diving for this. Tried to keep most cannon elements accurate, going off bits and pieces of info and lore and making inferences at some points, such as Anderson’s interviews in ME3: Citadel that imply Shepard was also his XO on his first command which I assume to be the Tokyo as it is the only previous command position cited for him. The poem referenced is Tennyson's "I wage not any feud with death" and there will likely be a few more poems referenced along the way. May cite songs for some chapters, and for this one "The Silence" by Bastille was just too perfect to pass up, and the second for the latter part of the chapter which i refrained from putting in a separate chapter is SCAVA by H.U.

##### Tell me a piece of your history   
that you're proud to call your own  
Speak in words you picked up   
as you walked through life alone.  
We used to swim in your stories   
and be pulled down by their tide,  
choking on the words   
and drowning with no air inside...  
Tell me a piece of your history   
that you've never said out loud.  
Pull the rug beneath my feet   
and shake me to the ground.

\---

##### Here's the massacre  
A mausoleum fit for me  
Lived a hundred years  
A hundred years I didn't see  
Gave all my hope away  
Is there any left for me?  
Bombs are splitting atoms  
What can the future bring?  
We can fill a million choirs  
And wait 'till children sing  
We can walk a million miles  
And end up in the sea.  
And our lungs just keep filling,  
And lying when we breathe.  
The world's filled with liars,  
Liars like me!...

 

“So how well do you know Commander Shepard?”

Though there were several other crew members sitting around the table, Ashley’s words were directed at Kaidan. Almost everyone else at the mess hall table was sitting at the other end mixed up in a rather enthusiastic debate about something trivial, with the exception of Chakwas, Joker, Garrus and Kaidan who were finishing their dinner, and Wrex who stood not far off, gaze flicking around the room with a sharp but disinterested gaze.

“Not all that well personally. I only met him a few days before we left for Eden Prime. I haven’t had much opportunity to speak with him since then. Any particular reason you’re asking?”

“Just curious. He did save my life after all, and it never hurts to know who’s got your back.” Joker made a noise that sounded like something between a snort and a scoff.

“Well everyone’s heard the rumors.”

“Now, Joker, you know hardly any of those are true, and the ones that are are exaggerated beyond recognition,” Chakwas jumped in with her motherly authority. Kaidan sighed, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. His hopes were soundly dashed, however, when Joker snorted once more.

“You mean like him decking some guy for making fun of his name or something? Because that one is just tame enough to be true, but unbelievable enough to be a lie.”

“No, I can vouch for that one. I had the unfortunate privilege of treating the distinctly unpleasant man for a rather badly bruised jaw. He fussed like a child the entire time. Most people agreed he probably deserved it as the man had a bit of an unpleasant reputation. Most of the crew was about ready to deal him the same, and I suspect most of them were secretly pleased.” Everyone gave Chakwas similar looks of disbelief but it was Ashley who voiced it.

“That seems a little...extreme.”

“Oh, there was more to it than the name. I’m not sure quite what, but it was a fair fight, and you’ll have to remember this was many years ago, the commander was quite a bit younger then. He gave the man several warnings, but the man just kept egging him on. No one heard most of the argument, however, so the part about his name was all most people took away from it. Evidently he doesn’t appreciate the nickname ‘Mark’.”

“There was probably a lot more to it than that,” Kaidan added passively, not wanting to encourage gossip about their CO. But naturally Joker had to perpetuate it.

“Yeah, sure, he’s pretty level headed, but need I even mention the more renown rumors? Or the red tape and classified flags covering so much of his public file you’d think it was a conspiracy?” Chakwas couldn’t restrain a chuckle at the words. The crease between Kaidan’s brows deepened in disapproval and everyone else, including Wrex, who was noticeably paying attention to their conversation now, looked intrigued.

“In my experience, red tape usually means death. A lot of it. Though I can’t imagine your security clearance is high enough to get any particulars.” Garrus’ inference was seconded by a nod from Ashley.

“Don’t need it. Everyone’s heard about Akuze, everything about that’s all over the extranet. And most people at least suspect he’s from Mindoir if they don’t know for certain. For all its red tape, the Alliance is terrible about keeping secrets.”

“Well that’s any military organization for you, everything, and I mean everything is on the extranet.”

“Mindoir, Akuze? Wow. The commander must have seen some serious shit.” Ashley’s voice held a note of shock and awe when she finally rejoined the conversation. Wrex grunted where he stood a few feet away.

“Akuze. That was the incident with all those threshers wasn’t it? Those bastards are tough to take down on foot. Me and my krant had a hell of a time with it.” Wrex’s words prompted several raised brows but he just shrugged.

“Yes, I’d imagine they are. Never got the chance to kill one myself, but they did get me pretty good.” Shepard’s voice had the gossiping group at the right end of the table stiffening and in some cases blushing at being caught red handed. “Well, less the maws and more the stray bullets, not a whole lot along the lines of minor wounds when you’re dealing with thresher maws.” Shepard casually inserted himself into the conversation and crossed the room from where he stood by the med bay to lean against the wall next to Wrex. Wrex slapped him on the back, entirely unabashed, with a  chuckle.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“How long have you been listening, exactly, commander?” Ashley’s voice was hesitant and remorseful as she glanced up at Shepard from her hands folded on the table in front of her. Shepard pondered her words for a moment before replying.

“I arrived somewhere around ‘didn’t he punch that guy.’” Ashley groaned and the others gathered around looked even more sheepish than they had before. Well, everyone except Wrex, who still gave no fucks. “Not that I mind the gossip too much, or even being the topic of it, but you are welcome to just ask me questions, you know. Like I said, open door policy.” He wouldn't add that he'd prefer they not ask about certain things they were currently discussing, however. It was one of the main reasons he’d put his old infiltrator training to use and eavesdropped on their conversation, to suss out what they already knew, before he involved himself.

Ashley blushed an even deeper shade of red and nodded her agreement. There were various murmurs of assent and Chakwas excused herself to the medbay murmuring something about scans on Tali’s environmental suit filters. A short silence ensued in which Shepard deduced he may have misstepped in his attempt to get his crew to relax more around him. However, his next comment proved his fears unfounded.

“So, Joker, while we’re on the subject of nosing around in people’s files; I read a rather interesting report on file the other day about your posting to the Normandy...”

The ensuing conversation about Joker’s joyride in the Normandy eased the tension in the air. Apparently no one else had been aware of Joker’s amusing if highly illegal theft of the classified prototype, and Joker’s version of his tale was somewhat more grand than the facts in the file. Shepard would have been interested to hear Anderson’s version of the events that lead up to Joker becoming the Normandy’s pilot, and he wished, not for the first time since assuming command, that the man was still around.

Eventually, after a rather amusing and lively conversation, the small group disbanded as people returned to their various duties and occupations. Eventually it was just him and Ashley sitting at the table. She sat next to him and turned to look at him rather seriously after glancing around to make sure there was no one else in ear shot. Her trepidation made him uneasy for a moment before she finally spoke.

“Commander, about that offer, I have a question. Just between you and me.”

“What is it?”

“While you guys were down on Feros the other day, I got to thinking. I mean, it was just thinking at first, but after Joker mentioned you were on Akuze; I was wondering: how did you deal with it? Losing your entire unit like that? I mean, I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. I just thought I’d ask since...” Her expression was guarded but he saw pain there, even as she hastened to add the last part. He didn’t hesitate long before responding. It was one of the few things in his troubled past he’d convinced himself he was relatively at peace with.

“My survival was sheer dumb luck. I have no illusions about that. I never had survivors guilt or raged at fate with a perpetual question of why, because objectively I know that there was nothing I could have done. There is nothing a single unarmed soldier on foot can do against three thresher maws. Most of us were unarmed, armorless and unprepared for such a brutal attack in the middle of the night. We knew we didn’t stand a chance and made a run for the shuttles. I happened to be the only one to make it back.

“It’s hard watching good soldiers go down like that; comrades, friends, good people, it was a great loss. There were others that probably deserved to live more than me, I know that, but chance is beyond our control. Do you feel like there was anything you could have done to prevent their deaths, Ash?” His words were detached as he recounted the events then concerned as he watched her troubled frown deepen, but his tone remained steady, convincing.

“I...No. I could have done things differently, but it would have ended the same way. There were just too many of them.”

“And by sheer dumb luck you were in the right place at the right time for us to help you.”

“I-thanks Shepard. I never really thought of it that way. I suppose it will be a while before I can accept it, but thanks.” She smiled and stood, bidding him farewell as she headed back towards the cargo bay looking thoughtful, but less troubled than she had been.

*******

If he were ever to concede one thing to himself, Shepard admitted it would likely be that in times like this, he felt as if he was holding himself together with bits of tattered thread and positive thoughts that stuck like day old medi-gel in the places where his scars never healed quite right. Rarely were old and troubled thoughts on his mind anymore. He had removed himself from his issues so thoroughly he fooled even himself most of the time, let alone the half dozen shrinks he had been forced to see over the years.

It seemed everybody from total strangers, to crazy fans to his subordinates found the more significant and troubling parts of his life to be common knowledge completely open for casual conversation or questioning. It used to be like sitting in a tub of ice water when his superiors and comrades brought up his past. Sometimes casually, sometimes in question, sometimes under scrutiny. And just like ice cold water, it had almost burned to the touch, then faded to a dull stinging before he finally became numb to it all. And eventually he managed to just disassociate his feelings and recollections from the events and the words that represented them. That was what getting over something was, right? He wasn’t really sure, but he hated headshrinkers enough to pretend it was. That had worked just fine up until this week on Ontarom, until today at the docks.

He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and downed the last of his coffee as he stared down the dimly lit hall. His ghosts lurked in the dark shadows between empty sleeping pods haunting the late hours and the only sound was that of the great drive core purring behind the wall he sat against. He often found solace here in the early hours of ghost shift when the halls were empty. Usually he found enough peace in the solitude and gentle thrumming that he could sleep enough to stay alert on the battlefield, but he knew with all certainty no sleep would be forthcoming tonight. He'd known that the moment he looked upon her youthful face, weathered prematurely by anguish and panic and self-loathing.

He tried to push the image of her face out of his mind, but it would not leave. It was tightly lodged in his memory now. Alongside the other ghosts that remained with him. Except she was alive. Whatever good that would do her. He knew the feeling, and he had only suffered a fraction of what she had, even if he had been old enough to recall it all in vivid gruesome detail. He wondered what had happened to her that night; If they had dragged her and her parents out of their beds, of caught them in the streets. Knowing her true fate sent a familiar twinge of regret through him that he’d barely spared them a thought then.

Her and Toombs in one week. Toombs’ survival and accusations changed little about his views on the incident itself. It wasn’t as if he needed any more reasons to hate Cerberus, but there was still nothing he could have done to save anyone. Though the truth behind it was disquieting. Next he would be dealing with Batarian pirates with leashed thresher maws or something equally insane. He snorted weakly at the thought and shook his head before letting it thump back against the wall and soon he stood with a sigh and made his way down the hall grumbling quietly to himself.

“Let it go Shepard. They’ll deal or they won't. Erik would kick your ass for being such a pansy about this. You honestly did all you could this time.” He sat in the chair he had vacated an hour or so before and pulled a datapad out of his pocket. He grabbed another from the small pile that had grown next to the coffee pot and held them side by side, double checking ship logs with his report.

His concentration drifted swiftly back to his previous thoughts and he let out a frustrated noise and dragged his attention back to the softly glowing screens in front of him. He made it a little farther into reviewing the report the second time around, but he couldn’t get Talitha’s gaunt and haunted face out of his head. It mocked him with recollections of things he couldn’t change. Things both happy and painful he wished he could just forget. He tossed the datapads back on the table and rubbed the scar on his forehead in frustration. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he let out another sigh as his gaze lighted and lingered briefly on his scarred knuckles.

He stood, pacing back and forth for a moment before fishing a hand into his pocket and pulling out the bottle of pills he usually kept on him in the evenings. He set the bottle on the table and stared at it long and hard for a moment. He was somewhat reluctant to risk the lingering grogginess they caused in the morning, but this wasn't just about gruesome images left in his head by the beacon. Those nightmares he could live with, and they rarely even woke him up anymore.

“What are those?” The voice behind him almost made him jump. He was really out of it if someone managed to sneak up on him. Especially his lieutenant, whose heavy footsteps were as subtle as a blaring siren to Shepard’s stealth trained ears when the man wasn’t trying to be quiet. He managed to contain his surprise however and turned to face him, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms.

“Sleeping pills.” Kaidan looked unsurprised by the revelation and merely nodded. Sleeping problems weren’t exactly unheard of in their line of work after all. Shepard turned and sat back down, slipping the bottle back into his pocket as he did so. Kaidan sat down across from him, glancing at the stack of dadapads and half empty coffee pot with a raised brow.

“You been up for a while, Commander?” Shepard nodded, glancing at his watch once more out of habit.

“Yeah, if since 0600 yesterday counts as a while; haven’t gone to bed yet. What has you up at this hour?” Kaidan yawned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was kind of adorable, Shepard thought privately, though he managed to keep a smile off his face.

“Ash’s snoring and a minor headache. Not sure which woke me up, but the former exacerbated the latter, so I came out here. What has you up so late doing paperwork? I was planning on finishing those reports up tomorrow before the mission.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Besides, if you keep doing all the paperwork and hogging all the maintenance work I’ll feel totally useless around here between missions. Just today I got kicked out of the cargo bay for making adjustments to the steering column of the MAKO while Garrus was trying to work on the gun. Then got kicked out of engineering by Adams for drawing Tali and half the engineering crew into a debate over potential ways to increase the efficiency of our IES, leaving only a handful of people to do all of the system checks. Kicked out! On my own ship like some troublesome spacers kid.” His idle rant trailed off as he caught sight of the amused smirk Kaidan had plastered on his face and he rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “I’m just used to having something more to do is all. Still not used to being a CO.”

“I get that, but you should take some time to just relax once in a while, Shepard. We still have a stressful mission to accomplish.” Shepard stared at him blankly for a moment before responding.

“That is how I relax. Taking things apart and picking people’s brains have always been big hobbies of mine. That and reading. But that cabin has claustrophobia written all over it.” Kaidan gave him an odd look for a moment before deciding he was being entirely serious. Taking things apart was after all one of the reasons he had joined the military in the first place and could disarm a bomb in less than a minute before he even had any proper training. That and people's thoughts and stories had always interested him, things from Wrex's suspenseful adventures to discussing historical theories and noteworthy events with Liara, and even sharing in a harbored appreciation of poetry with Ash on slow days.

“Well, let me know if the private quarters and the soft bed become too troublesome, I’d be perfectly happy to take them off your hands.”

“There’s that sense of humor. I knew you were hiding one under all that professionalism somewhere.” Kaidan gave him a wry smirk. The man really should smile more.

“Sometimes.”

“You know, I said something remarkably similar to Anderson just after he took command of the Tokyo.”

“What’d he say?”

“Well, I had just been promoted and assigned as his XO after my ‘extended leave of absence,’” he put air quotes around the words and spoke them with a level of distaste he reserved specifically for unsavory political and military machinations. “I didn’t know him real well then and I was never a model lieutenant considering I didn’t exactly climb the ranks conventionally, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I thought he would hang and quarter me or reprimand me at the very least, but Anderson just laughed.” He shook his head with a fond smile at the recollection.

“This was my first posting with him, though I’d met him before in passing. He’s a hell of a guy.”

“That he is. The best. Loyal to a fault. The way he had to let the Normandy go though, he didn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah. The council is a difficult bunch through and through, and from the looks of things, I doubt that’ll change any time soon.”

“Well, we hit Novaria at 1300 tomorrow, then hopefully we can get a little closer to ending this mess once and for all and not have to deal with their bullshit anymore.” Kaidan nodded his agreement.

A companionable silence followed and Shepard snatched up his datapad once more and got three quarters of the way through his review of the report before recalling why he had been having so much trouble concentrating on it before. He tossed it back in the pile with a defeated growl and ran his hands over his tired face. Not even the tired, enthralling, brown eyes and tousled raven hair were enough to distract him from such weighty thoughts.

He pulled the bottle back out of his pocket, forgetting his previous reservations about taking them in front of his lieutenant, and tossed three of the small pills back with a practiced ease. For once after that, and for the first time unfortunately, his attention wasn’t fixated on the man in front of him as it usually was when they were in the same room. For the most part he forgot the man was there entirely as he fought dark recollections as the ghosts dogging him came to mind once more and he waited with bated breath for the pills to kick in.

Kaidan, sharp as a tack, didn’t miss a beat and clearly sensed his sharp change in mood, if his frown was anything to go by. Shepard closed his eyes tightly as if in pain and rubbed his temples violently with his palms, trying to banish the thoughts that were suddenly on him like a tidal wave. Even the same pills he had always used to chase them away brought the memories back. And in hindsight that really shouldn't have been a surprise.

_‘You’re not an animal’...‘She tries not to think. When she thinks, water comes out of her eyes. The masters beat her when she wastes water, so she doesn’t think.’...‘She can’t escape, never escape.’_

_‘Mark, where’d mom go? Where’s Tali and Dad?’_

_‘I’ll tell you later Gabe, just hold Abby’s hand and don’t let go. Keep running and don’t look back whatever you do, I’ll be right behind you.’ He didn’t have the heart to tell them they were all gone. But he had to keep them safe, and to do that they had to stay calm._

_Dad and mom had gone down together, he heard their screams as the twins crawled out his bedroom window. They weren’t the screams of people who would see a quick death, but he promised. He saw his mother shoved to the ground through the open doorway as he turned to the window. He couldn’t turn back to help._

_‘You listen to me, Markus. You keep them safe, you get them out of here and don’t you dare look back. You hear me?’_

_‘Yes, mom. I promise.’ She palmed his stoic face and blew a kiss to the twins and gunfire sounded from the living room. The sound of dad’s old pistol._

_Kneeling in the dry dirt. His head still ringing and throbbing from being knocked out by the mine he'd stepped just a little too close to. Fires lapping at what was left of the buildings around him on the outskirts of town, burns on his hands from shielding the twins from the blast. The crops in the fields an immense bonfire not far off, the woods not a mile away. Blood pooling at his feet. Reaching._

_‘Abby!’ He calls._

_She screams, but he can’t help her, he can’t see anything with blood dripping down his face, his burned and dirty hands clawing, swiping, reaching for a hand that isn’t there. A chuckle. The sound of evil incarnate and she screams again. His legs won’t work. One is broken but he gets the blood out of his eyes enough to see Abby struggle in the hold of a slaver who shakes her like a rag doll. She bites and claws at him, kicking and screaming._

_“Mark! Mark!” She yells in between panicked shrieks._

_Gabe. Where is Gabe? He isn’t sure what happened. One minute they were running and the next an explosion. His thoughts are fuzzy and disorganized as he looks around frantically but doesn’t see the familiar blond head anywhere. Abby keeps struggling and the slaver keeps on shaking her until another one approaches._

_‘This one’s not worth the trouble. We have enough.’ Bang. He tries to pull the shotgun down with his biotics, but he is too weak and too late. Her blood paints the ground just feet away and he screams himself hoarse. The slavers glance at him, but upon seeing the gunshot and shrapnel wounds in his arm and shoulder, the unnatural bend of his right leg and the way he held his likely cracked ribs they disregard him as harmless and useless to them._

_They leave and he drags himself forward to cradle her tiny body. Tears mix with the blood running down his face but he keeps looking frantically and screaming through his harsh sobs._

_‘Gabe! Gabe!’ He can’t bring himself to look down at Abby. Her black tresses are soaked with blood that runs down his arm, mixing with his own. He sees another small form cloaked in shadow laying not too far off, but his vision grows fuzzy and his eyes grow heavy with blood loss. His arm, shoulder, and head were all bleeding profusely, his leg was numb. Everything was numb._

_His pain and anger cause his biotics to flare uncontrollably, incoherent mass effect fields whipping about like a chaotic storm of blue fire around him. Another batarian approaches from around a nearby house, he couldn't be sure but it looked like one of the ones that had been there minutes before judging by his clothing. He heads for them with a gleam in his malicious black eyes at seeing a young biotic. As the slaver gets closer, he lashes out, shoving with his rudimentary biotics as strongly as he can manage, but it does nothing but make him pause a moment. The batarian gets within a meter._

_‘Stay away from her!’ He launches himself upwards on his good leg and tackles the man to the ground, hitting him repeatedly before he can even react. He loses control of all thought or reason as he pours every ounce of strength left in him into his fists, beating until the batarian stills, his face a disfigured bloodied mess, his eyes closed. His singed knuckles are raw and bleeding now, the skin split to the bone in several places from his unrestrained violence. The man is dead. He pulls himself back over to Abby’s chilled form, taking pained breaths past broken ribs and cradling her to his chest once more as sobs wrack his body again._

_“Es tut mir leid, es tut mir viel leid.” (I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.) He chokes through harsh sobs. His vision grows fuzzy once more, no more adrenaline to keep him going, no blood haze to keep him conscious. His last thought before blacking out was: I failed. I can die here with them._  He will never forget his great disappointment that he woke again.

“Commander!” He jumped when Kaidan’s voice finally penetrated the fog he was lost in. To his great relief he hadn’t made a sound. His face was turned downwards, his hands still at his temples. He rubbed at the scar on his head briefly as he opened his eyes just in time, to his eternal horror, to see a single tear fall from his lashes to the steel tabletop with an almost silent splash. It was an almost deafening noise in the silent room.

He hoped and prayed to every deity he could think of that Kaidan hadn’t noticed, but he knew that was a futile hope. To his everlasting credit, Kaidan said nothing. Nothing about his tears at least.

“The girl on the docks?” Shepard nodded. He and Kaidan had built up a tentative friendship over the last few months. Shepard had barreled through the man’s wall of professionalism with a tactful verbal grace he usually only possessed in life or death situations, which he counted as a victory, but despite his fondness for the man and the trust he placed in him, he wasn’t certain their friendship was quite ready for the direction he felt this conversation headed in.

He had never spoken to anyone about what happened on Mindoir. He’d lied to the shrinks, told them he had blacked out at the start of it all when he was injured. He brushed off the inquisitive and concerned faces when it came up. He’d heard rumors of a soldier who developed PTSD simply from being a part of the patrol that had rescued the small handful of survivors from that mess, and honestly it didn’t surprise him a whole lot.

He admitted Kaidan was probably the person he had been closest to in the last half a decade, despite how superficial their friendship often seemed. But then, Kaidan had opened up about his experiences at BAaT. He supposed fair was fair, no matter how reluctant he was to talk about it. Though objectively it seemed his trauma was far different than Kaidan’s, he recognized a similar weight in the man’s words when he had spoken and knew despite the obvious differences, there was a kindred pain hidden there amongst the tightly woven threads of the lieutenant’s self control.

He found the man’s views and opinions to be refreshingly reasonable compared to many human soldiers he knew. And he had found a kindred soul in the tightly wound control and nobility and hesitant honesty Kaidan often exhibited. So, despite his better judgment and a sense of dark foreboding, he replied.

“I’m not surprised she didn’t recognize me. It’s been a lot of years. She barely remembers who she is. Her name was the only thing to give her away at first. It took me a few minutes to piece it together.” Kaidan looked surprised at his words as Shepard scrubbed his face and looked up at him.

“You knew her?”

“Yeah. It was a small colony, a smaller town. She was the twins’ best friend, my brother and sister.”

“Oh,” he said simply, seemingly at a loss for words for a long moment before he spoke again. “What were they like?” He hedged softly with a curiosity he rarely exhibited. Shepard smiled weakly at the happier recollections and maybe in part because of the attentive and unguarded gaze directed at him by one who was usually all soft-spoken stoicism.

“Little terrors from the moment they could walk. Our mothers were close so she was like family. They used to pester me to do ridiculous things with my biotics, open doors, move things around, whatever I could manage before I got my implant. Mom hated it, didn’t want people finding out and having the Alliance haul me off to BAaT or people ostracizing me. My parents were too stubborn to be cowed by propaganda and rumors. But little kids don’t pay much mind to secrets. They had their little hear no, see no, speak no evil routine down to a T.” He suddenly felt too vulnerable delving, however disjointedly, into memories he hadn’t touched in over a decade. He needed to change the topic, if only for a moment. “You got any siblings?”

“Nope, just me and my parents. Had a dog when I was younger.”

“Ah, had you pegged as a dog person. We had a cat. Though the twins always wanted a pyjak.”

“A pyjak?”

“My family had a fondness for quirky pets. I'm not sure how those pesky vermin qualified, but I am fairly certain there was something wrong with that cat. He had a penchant for moving things around the house, ma’s jewelry, toys, little things. And we were never allowed to keep marbles around because he would try to eat them, hence the name.”

“Marbles?”

“Yep.” Shepard chuckled along with Kaidan, feeling exhaustion begin to wash through him as the sleeping pills finally started to kick in. They sobered up after a moment and sat in silence for a few long minutes. Shepard eventually picked up his mug and the coffee pot and made his way over to the sink and washed them meticulously.

“Any other siblings?” Kaidan asked hesitantly behind him, clearly concerned he’d taken his questioning too far already, but itching with unbridled curiosity. Shepard shut the water off and leaned against the countertop, arms braced to either side of the sink as he kept his back to Kaidan. He didn’t want to damage their budding friendship by slamming the door shut on a conversation he’d already gotten himself involved in, but Kaidan’s sudden interest in his personal life surprised him somewhat even as it made his heart twinge with painful recollections.

“Yeah. My older brother Erik joined the Alliance and went MIA on a patrol on the Attican border a couple years after his enlistment, just a few months before the raid.”

“Sorry to hear that.” There was something in Kaidan’s voice that despite their conversation, made him smile. He knew Kaidan wasn’t just talking about Erik, and it wasn’t pity, detachment, or blame, or false understanding in his tone, but genuine unadulterated empathy. It was honest, just support and empathy without all the bullshit people usually tacked on, it was refreshing.

He found himself not minding this conversation as much as he had anticipated, and despite his previous reservations, he found himself enjoying his more pleasant recollections of his family now that he’d opened the gates to the remote corner of his mind he locked them in most of the time. Erik’s goofy smile when he teased him, his best friend Aidan pouting childishly or ragging on him for some crush he fancied Markus had. Aidan complaining about Gabe pestering them while they worked on one of the combines, even as he called him  ‘little ‘coon’ in a fond tone and did his best to explain what they were working on to the little troublemaker. He turned to lean against the counter and smiled at Kaidan across the room.

“I think you'd've liked him. He was, ah, very outspoken in his support of human biotics. Got into more than one fight when we were younger over it. The army was good for him. He was a bit of a romantic himself about the notion of space travel.”

“Maybe. How much older was he, if he enlisted when you were, what, fourteen?”

“Fifteen. He was only three years older, we were pretty close until he left. I Told him I’d be right behind him when I was old enough, though I started to rethink that after he went MIA. Abby and Gabe were only six when-,” he swallowed heavily, “when the raid came.”

It seemed even his happier thoughts were tinged bittersweet now. This was why he avoided that dark corner of his mind. He couldn’t recall their naive youth with fondness, without thinking they had never gotten the chance to grow up. He couldn’t recall their faces without seeing blood painted tresses, his little sisters clawing fingers, her fragile skull shattered by the impact of a bullet, a small form blanketed by shadow and backlit by roaring flames. But he would never speak of these things. He wouldn’t wish his memories on his worst enemy, let alone a friend, someone he cared for. Though he could see his troubled look did not go unnoticed by Kaidan, who had that familiar line forming between his brows.

He pushed away from the counter with protesting muscles and ran a hand over his military cut. He looked over at the table where Kaidan still sat, watching him with an intense gaze that made his stomach flutter even as it unnerved him.

“You really don’t have to tolerate my rambling, Lieutenant. You’re welcome to tell me to shut the hell up any time.” He knew it was an abrupt step back, slamming the gate shut on his meticulously established walls. Using Kaidan’s title like that when he had worked so hard to get under the man’s skin and get him to relax around him was like a punch in the face, but he was feeling like a wounded animal that needed to slink away and nurse his reopened wounds in solitude. Kaidan frowned pointedly at him.

“Shepard.”

“We’ve seen a lot of shit together, Kaidan. Doesn’t mean I need to unload all my baggage on you. I’ve my past squared away. Ancient history.” Perhaps throwing Kaidan’s own words back at him was a mistake. That made it just as evident he was lying as it had been that Kaidan was when he had said them in the first place. Kaidan fixed his gaze on Shepard’s with that unnerving stare once more, making him fight the urge to squirm.

“Markus. We’ve all got our baggage, carrying it alone doesn’t help anyone in the long run. You said so yourself.” Well. That was a first. Anderson was the only person who had called him by his first name in years. Maybe he was still capable of maintaining an actual friendship, a real one.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, Kaidan. The key difference between us is: you deserve to be forgiven.” Kaidan’s look shifted to one of silent question, but Shepard’s empty gaze did not lend itself to further questioning. He was done giving into his weakness for Kaidan’s gentle prodding and curious brown gaze. “Thanks for listening, anyway. It’s..nice to recall happier things.”

He made his way over to the table and reached for the stack of datapads. Kaidan grabbed his arm.

“I’ll finish them. You can take care of those tedious maintenance checks tomorrow. Deal?” Shepard smiled, partly at the prospect of doing something other than filing reports in the morning, and partly because Kaidan didn’t press him for answers.

“Deal.” He nodded his goodnight and made his way towards his quarters, stopping halfway there and contemplating asking Kaidan to not mention the sleeping pills to Chakwas. He kept going, however, thinking it would be a good opportunity to test his lieutenants honest evaluation of his mental faculties after their talk.

*******

Kaidan, it seemed, put more faith in him after that than he would likely have put in himself. Chakwas didn’t approach him in the next few days with that no nonsense motherly concern of hers or badger him about getting a psych eval, so he assumed Kaidan had said nothing. Then again maybe Kaidan hadn’t specifically noticed he was taking enough eximo to kill most people.

The thing he found the most peculiar was that Kaidan didn’t treat him any differently after that. No strange looks or guarded words. Shepard found it rather curious, but things after that seemed entirely normal.

His dreams returned to disjointed visions from the beacon rather than the vivid recollections they had been in the early days after Mindoir. He continued to chat with his colorful array of crew members, talking shop and flotilla life with Tali, principles and c-sec with Garrus, discussing history with Liara, swapping war stories with Wrex, and, well, mostly just watching Kaidan when the man wasn’t looking. He would feel like a stalker if the ship wasn’t so small he actually happened to run into the man frequently outside of their occasional non-work-related discussions.

His ever growing obsession was never a problem in the field. He knew where to draw the line, but times like this, when Ash dragged them all out to a bar, he found himself distracted. He’d admitted his attraction to Kaidan not long after he’d met the man. Of course he’d noticed how attractive the man was right away, but as the weeks and eventually months wore on, the man grew on him more and more. They’d developed a friendship, which was more than Shepard had ever expected from the closed off and very private man, but as they became closer Shepard could feel his feelings changing, though he did his utmost to ignore the fact, especially on nights like this.

He always sat to one side of their group, trying to remain somewhat aloof. If he didn’t agree to go with them Ash badgered and nagged at him until he did. She may have been less persistent if she knew of his rather sordid past where alcohol was concerned, but as far as he knew, no one alive did. Perhaps Anderson, but the man had never brought it up if he did.

The worst of it had occurred in the lost years of his life the Alliance had no record of, when he got into drunken brawls and street fights and was taking enough eximo to down a krogan as he bounced from one place to another hitchhiking and running with shady people. He’d only ever told one person about that part of his life, and only because he knew Ryan would understand. He had been through a similar situation growing up on the streets.

He had thought about his old friend quite a lot over the past few days since they killed a thresher maw on Edolus. He had almost frozen with fear before a soul deep anger settled in his gut. It was that familiar feeling that scared him more than anything else. He was terrified of losing his composure like that. Like he had when he killed that man, when he ripped open his scabbed skin punching that soldier that came too late but saved him anyway, when he walked around in a drunken haze like a ghost, picking fight after fight. He hated that feeling, the loss of control, the emptiness after that he often filled with more alcohol so he didn’t have to think about just how empty he felt.

He was like that for a while after Akuze. He was given a leave of absence pending a psychological evaluation. He spent most of it drunk, trying not to think about watching his only friend and his CO being dragged bloodied beneath the ground, shouting at him to run with their last breaths. Surprisingly, it was recalling Ryan’s words when he had told him about the years before his enlistment that helped him to pull himself back together. _“You can’t make the past go away, I know, I’ve tried, I’ve seen what it does to a man. And I know you can’t let it go either, anyone who says that is either a liar or ignorant, I can’t stand either. But you’re still here, which means you gotta damn well get your shit together and be here, or the next thing you know you won’t be, and I can tell ya, if it was me lookin’ down on ya, I’d give you hell for it.”_

He smiled at the recollection of Ryan’s brash attitude and thick accent. He raised his bottle in silent toast and rubbed the scar on his right side where a stray bullet from Ryan’s SMG had clipped him as a thresher caught up to them.

“You do that a lot recently you know. Staring off into space.” Shepard looked across the table at Liara, who gazed at him with unspoken curiosity before looking over at Wrex and Ash who were making a ruckus at the other end of the table as they began a drinking contest. Ash was really growing past that xenophobia of hers, he thought privately. She had even offered Liara some empathy and consoling words at her mother’s passing. Joker and Garrus egged the duo on and Kaidan and Tali watched in amusement, Kaidan with a fond smile on his face.

“Just had a lot on my mind recently.” Liara scrutinized him with a perceptive gaze and a small smile played at the corner of her lips.

“That’s what alcohol is for!” Wrex shouted from down the table and slid a full mug of what he assumed was ryncol towards him.

“I already took that bet once, Wrex, I’m not drinkin ryncol ever again. I’ll stick with this,” he said as he raised his glass. He was already tipsy anyway. Wrex laughed and Garrus passed the mug back down to him.

“Must’a been a sucker bet, but then you’re the only human I’ve ever met that’d be crazy enough to try.”

“Who said try? I did it. Earned myself 200 credits, a week long hangover, and probably some permanent internal damage, but I did it.” He smiled cheekily before taking a sip of his drink. Everyone else at the table gave him various looks of disbelief as Wrex chuckled again.

“I don’t know if I’d do that for a thousand credits. Just the smell of the stuff gives me a headache. I can’t imagine death by ryncol is very pleasant.” Ashley’s words were surprisingly coherent for how much she had been drinking. The woman sure could handle her liquor. He shrugged, no point explaining he hadn’t really cared if it would kill him at the time. A minor death wish, with two hundred credits if he succeeded and blissful, if painful, death if he didn’t.

“All right then, Williams,” Joker prompted playfully. “What would you do for a thousand credits?”

“Kiss a turian?” Shepard asked after a few silent moments while her alcohol hazed mind turned the question over. She glared at him from down the table. Garrus twitched a mandible and looked at him in question and Shepard waved him off with a smile.

“A thousand credits isn’t much to draw the line at,” Garrus added helpfully.

“Alright, alright,” Joker conceded. “So maybe a better question would be: what’s the worst thing you have done for money?” Ashley groaned and glared simultaneously, making for a rather amusing expression befitting of her inebriated state.

“Now you’re just picking on me.”

“You know, Joker, sometimes I feel like you encourage these little outings just to gather blackmail material when everyone gets tipsy.” This from Kaidan who, much like Shepard, was listening to the current conversation with no small amount of amusement.

“Now that is just an offensive accusation, Alenko. I’ll have you know it’s usually her fault,” he gestured across to the soldier he had just been picking on and she stuck her tongue out childishly at him.

The drunken immaturity she exhibited reminded him a small child and Shepard smiled fondly. He often found himself marveling at how close he’d grown to this rag-tag group of people in only a few short months. It really was quite a departure from the distance he’d tried to maintain from his coworkers the past few years, but this felt like more than just coworkers already, it was a group of friends, or people who were closely approaching the status of such with one another. The notion was so foreign after so long it took him a moment to really place it.

“Right, Shepard?” It was Joker that spoke, but Liara who kicked him under the table to get his attention.

“What?” He would be more embarrassed about zoning out if he wasn’t so disoriented for a moment before Joker motioned to the small box with a blue ribbon that had been sitting on the table by him all evening. Oh, right, the excuse Ash had used to drag them all out tonight. At least it was better than whatever archaic holiday she’d used as an excuse last time. He caught on quickly and passed the box over Joker to Kaidan with a smile.

“Before you ask, it was Garrus’ idea.” Kaidan opened the box as Shepard spoke, but he could tell he was listening. “After that little dispute a few weeks ago, and the subsequent mention of how hard they were to find, I tracked another one down.” Garrus cleared his throat pointedly. “Sorry, I used Garrus’ contacts here to track one down.” Ashley cleared her throat as well. “And the gift giving was Ash’s idea. Apparently I’m just the spokesperson for our cat-caught friends here.” A few of the non-humans at the table gave him strange looks

“And the coinpurse, don’t forget that,” Joker added helpfully.

“Hey, I resent that,” Ashley’s incredulous words were met by a placating hand.

“Alright, just most of it,” Joker conceded.

Shepard shrugged, he didn’t much mind spending money on his friends. Yeah, it was nice to have friends. It was an unusual and novel feeling, and definitely worth it if the look of pleased shock painting Kaidan’s face was anything to go by. It's not like he had many other expenses anyway.

“And I must take some responsibility for the location. I was the one who suggested the ship was not a good place to celebrate one’s birthday.” Liara’s words were so soft spoken he wasn’t even sure Kaidan could hear her down the table.

“I suggested Chora’s den.” Joker’s grumble went mostly unnoticed except by Wrex who just laughed and Shepard.

“And I told you no. Maybe for a bachelor party, Joker.”

“Alright, alright, who’s gonna get married then?”

“Oh no, what have I done?” Shepard’s pitiful grumble was interrupted by Kaidan’s outburst of thanks aimed at everyone and no one in particular as he pulled the Savant out of the box. Tali made a noise that was something like a scoff and Ash leaned over to whisper to her.

“It’s not your Logic Arrest, but we were hoping you could learn to like it, being as balanced and efficient as it is.” Garrus’ words were hopeful and despite whatever Ash had said to Tali, spawned yet another friendly debate over the subject of omni-tools, which Wrex and Ashley promptly checked out of to return to their competition and Garrus and Joker began trading jokes.

It was a strangely domestic feeling to be surrounded by friends and good spirits and the ignorance of all of the people around them. It made his skin itch. Contentedness was not a feeling that would ever sit well with him, and this feeling was something fast approaching that.

He left early that night, with a lingering glance at his smiling crew in various states of intoxication. He allowed a moment of sentimentality to overcome him and snapped a quick holo of the revelry with his omnitool before looking down and fingering the discarded ribbon on the edge of the table as he watched Wrex trying to teach everyone a krogan drinking song while Liara giggled helplessly and Kaidan watched with one of those oh so rare smiles of his that made Shepard’s heart do strange things in his chest. He left with a swift mental kick at himself for indulging his futile infatuation with his endearing lieutenant. He gave himself another harder kick for the unnecessary adjective. His _subordinate_ , and _very straight_ lieutenant.

*******

As it turned out, contentedness wanted nothing to do with him. The painful irony of it threatened to suffocate him even as he lied through his teeth again and again. He was used to lying, this shouldn’t be any different, but for some reason he hated lying to Kaidan. Especially because the man could usually see right through him, but Kaidan was so grief stricken that the pretty placating lies fell on ears that could hardly understand them.

Despite his feelings on the matter, he lied anyway. The guilt was his to bear, not Kaidan’s. He blamed Saren, he rambled, but he knew it was likely Kaidan would see right through him when the shock had worn off.

“It was my job to get everyone out safe. I failed. I vowed not to let that happen again. Same here. I’ll remember her, and I’ll do better for her.” That lie made him feel so dirty he was certain he would never be able to wash the feeling away. The contradiction in his words was painful to hear, but Kaidan didn’t seem to notice. He wasn’t even sure the man heard him as he stared off into space. Shepard left the injured man in the med bay and locked himself in his silent empty cabin, sitting heavily on the pristinely made bed he hadn’t slept in for days. He tended to spend more time sleeping at his desk these days.

 _“I vowed not to let that happen again.”_  The words mocked him. If he had succeeded, he would not have to make that promise yet again. The promise he made the day he finally pulled himself together and enlisted.

He reached out a shaking hand for the tattered book sitting on the edge of his desk. It was his most cherished possession, one of his few possessions. He had shown it to Ash the last time he had spoken with her, she didn’t ask about the blood staining the top corner of the back cover, she probably hadn’t needed to. He had always assumed it was his mothers, but it was hard to be sure, the bodies were moved before he was allowed to go back there.

It was an heirloom of sorts, so his mother had told him. She had meant to give it to Abby, if the thing survived long enough. It had to be over a hundred years old, the pages were as brittle as dried bones. As he suspected, Ash had been thrilled when he showed it to her. Tennyson may have been her favorite, but she had appreciated it.

Been. That word stung. Not is. He was her favorite. The dead don’t get preferences anymore. He glanced up at the newer book sitting next to where his mother’s had been, a much newer version of the one he held in his hands. He supposed it would just sit there now. Gathering dust. Maybe he would send it home to her family along with her possessions, he would never get the chance to give it to her now.

He wasn’t sure quite how long he sat there, idly stroking the spine of the weathered book. Several hours at least, mind blank and wandering until an idle thought struck him rather profoundly. She wouldn’t even have a grave to read to. At least not one with more than a token coffin inside of it. That beautiful idyllic planet and a flaming pile of rubble would be her grave. And it was his fault.

A thought lit upon him then. He stood on protesting legs clad in nothing but loose sleeping pants and peeked out into the empty mess. It had to be late by ship time. Assuming they would be just as vacant as they always were at this hour, he stole down the silent halls to the observation deck and stopped in the empty room.

He set the book he still held gently at his feet, looked down on the planet they would be orbiting until morning and leaned heavily against the window, his palms flat against the cool glass. It seemed just as he thought the reality had finally set in, it sunk a little deeper, each little thing like constricting razor wire around his heart. He began speaking, more out of idleness than any previous intent, his mind was blank once more except for the memory of her reading one of her favorite poems aloud.

“I wage not any feud with Death

For changes wrought on form and face;

No lower life that earth's embrace

May breed with him, can fright my faith.

 

Eternal process moving on,

From state to state the spirit walks;

And these are but the shatter'd stalks,

Or ruin'd chrysalis of one.

 

Nor blame I Death, because he bare

The use of virtue out of earth:

I know transplanted human worth

Will bloom to profit, otherwhere.

 

For this alone on Death I wreak

The wrath that garners in my heart;

He put our lives so far apart

We cannot hear each other speak.”

Emotion choked his words and his voice cracked as the last line fell from his lips. He hated that poem at that moment. The words were so very her. Death was an old wound for her though, and she had never bore any guilt for it. His head hung low between his shoulders and he let out a shaky breath, breathing out words he had not spoken in a long time.

“Es tut mir leid, dass ich lasse deine hand gehen.” (I’m sorry I let go of your hand.)

“German? I suppose that explains the tattoo a bit then.” He didn’t turn around at the words despite the obvious scrutiny of the colorful tattoo along the bottom of his right shoulder blade. At least the scars weren’t noticeable in the dark. He couldn’t be sure when the man had come in, but it seemed he had a sixth sense for rooting out his CO when he was at his most vulnerable. He was about to tell him as much, but that’s not what came out of his mouth when he spoke.

“My father always believed that ‘words from the heart should always be spoken in one’s native tongue.’ Of course we were raised bilingual, but he took a lot of pride in his cultural heritage.”

“He sounds like a man with integrity, but he’s not why you’re down here in the dark reciting poetry is he.” He heard Kaidan move from the doorway to sit on one of the couches behind him and the door closed with a quiet hiss, leaving only the stars to light the room.

“Alenko, I’m tired. I know you’re hurting, we’re all hurting, but I just don’t have the energy to-” _To what? To lie to you right now? To pretend I’m alright? To accept reality and admit that this isn’t all some twisted nightmare echoing old memories?_ He sighed. “I’m just tired.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder briefly as Kaidan came up behind him. He leaned against the window next to Shepard favoring his right side as he looked out over the planet with a thoughtful solemn expression.

“Beautiful place. Wish we’d gotten to see it under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Yeah, they don’t tell you when you enlist that the adventure part of the job is mostly dodging bullets. Did get to do a bit of sightseeing with the 103rd at least, before everything went FUBAR.”

“Stopping a galactic invasion takes precedence, I suppose.”

They stood in silence after that, looking out on the immovable planet below them, the dazzling cerulean surface reflecting the light from a million bright stars hung above it. They stood shoulder to shoulder, Shepard having let his arms fall to his sides.

They stood close enough that he could hear the other man’s breathing and feel the heat radiating from him that made the chill of the air more noticeable. Kaidan didn’t seem to notice it as he stared out. _Maybe because you aren’t wearing a shirt, genius._ Right. He had only intended to be down here a few minutes, but the glittering sea and expanse of black star scattered galaxy spread out before them had him transfixed.

He shifted and his gaze came back to rest on the book resting between his bare feet. He picked it up and stroked the cover idly before walking over to one of the couches and sitting, setting it in his lap. Kaidan eventually joined him, glancing at the book as he sat down beside him.

“Didn’t see you reading from it. You have that one memorized?” Shepard nodded, his head resting against the back of the couch.

“Yeah, but this isn’t Tennyson. I was a bit taken with that one when she read it to me. Must’ve read it a dozen times. Fitting definition of bitter irony if you ask me.”

“It suits her.”

“Yeah.”

He turned his head to look at Kaidan who sat with his feet on the ground and his arms folded across his t-shirt clad chest just above the bandages faintly noticeable under the cloth. Kaidan’s head was tilted towards him and his alert brown eyes held that look that always made Shepard feel like he was being picked apart. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he looked away quickly and gazed out the window once more. Time felt weightless as is ticked by in a comforting companionable silence.

“So blue,” he mumbled sleepily some time later. “Is this what Earth looks like from orbit?”

“You haven’t seen it? It’s a bit more sapphire, and more green, but pretty close.” Kaidan’s words were tired as well, but more coherent than Shepard’s.

“Only ever been to Rio’, the villa. No time for sightseeing when you’re prepping for N-school.”

“Right. I’m actually rather fond of the Alliance blue. ‘Reminds me of Earth.” Shepard snorted at his sleep addled musing.

“Pretty sure that’s probably where they got it.” Kaidan shrugged beside him.

They both eventually fell asleep like that, in companionable silence, mourning; unspoken understanding and mutual support a comforting cocoon between them and the silent vacuum of space. And if dawn found Shepard stealing out of the observation room with a soft lingering glance at his sleeping lieutenant, no one was the wiser.

*******

“Fucking traitorous snake!” Shepard took a deep breath and gently extricated his hand from the dent he had accidentally made in the wall, wrangling his biotics back under control and rubbing his faintly protesting hand as he heard the door chime. Udina was an impressive man in that he had pushed Shepard to a point of such near-violent anger. “Enter,” he called out as he regained his composure and feigned an air of nonchalance as he leaned against the wall over the shallow dent in an attempt to divert attention from it. To no avail.

“You know, if you had put any more force into that, this would likely no longer be a spaceworthy vessel.” Liara noted as she stepped just inside the doorway with Garrus, Tali, Kaidan and Wrex behind her. Wrex laughed.

“I’ll show you a real dent.”

“Please don’t break my ship, Wrex. It will need to fly again, eventually.”

“That’s why we’re here, more specifically to get you off of the ship. And that’s why Wrex is here: in case you don’t agree to come along peacefully,” Garrus’ words were playful, but there was a curious glint in his eye that said he would probably stand aside if the krogan did decide to haul him off the ship bodily.

“We figured you could use a distraction,” Tali added. Shepard looked to Kaidan, who stood in front of her, with amusement and good humor that had far escaped him only moments before.

“I don’t know how good ‘kidnapping a superior officer’ would look on your spotless resume, Alenko. Or your court martial, as the case may be. You are technically the only Alliance personnel involved in this.”

“Who said anything about kidnapping? We are simply extending you an invitation to come out and get drunk at a somewhat questionable hour.” Shepard glanced at his watch.

“It won’t be as questionable by the time we get there.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Commander,” came Jokers voice over the intercom. “Incoming message from Anderson.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know, just said to meet him at that club in the wards: Flux.”

“On it. Right then, so much for that idea.” He clapped Liara and Kaidan on their shoulders as he made his way through the small crowd in front of his door, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t wearing gloves or posturing himself carefully in such a well lit part of the ship. No help for it if the sharp breath Liara tried to hide was any indicator.

“Shepard,” she began curiously as the small assembly fell into step behind him.

“Yes?” He knew what she was going to inquire about, he just wasn’t sure what to tell her yet.

“What happened to-”

“My Vyrnnus, a useless soldier and one too many fist fights in my teens.” Cryptic, yet enough to satisfy her curiosity. He wasn’t sure if Kaidan would have any clue what he was talking about when he referenced Vyrnnus, but by the puzzled look Shepard saw out of the corner of his eye as they walked he was clearly trying to riddle it out.

The scars were more noticeable in well lighted places, and very conspicuous. He was usually wearing armor, gloves or used careful posturing to divert attention from them. Unlike his past people always seemed to ferret out, his physical scars could be hidden. Though no one ever asked about simple war wounds when you were in the military. Anyone from the streets or familiar with a good fist fight could tell there weren't many things that scarred up a persons hands like that. Caving a man’s skull in with your fists already blistered by flames and rock and then waking up after a medically induced coma only to rip the scabs open wailing on an alliance soldier who had the gall to save your life would evidently do it though. The fist fights and bar brawls in the following years couldn’t make much of an impact on the patchwork of raised lines that were several centimeters long in some places and the occasional patch of burn scars.

As he suspected that response stopped the questioning. He couldn’t help but think that if Ash had been there it would have gone from a hesitant question and carefully worded answer to a big ordeal. He couldn’t bring himself to be happy about that fact though.

*******

He didn’t want to die, was the last thought he had before he blacked out. Not like the last time. He had finally found meaning, and emotions he had thought long since dead: companionship, purpose, affection, determination, will. All of these things he had thought buried on one planet or the other that had come back to him in the form of his motley team.

Ash, whose strength of character and opinionated attitude and much hidden soft heart were steadfast and immovable even as her eyes opened to new thoughts and opinions in their time together. Garrus who, despite his exceedingly noble heart, always seemed to be warring with his better nature. Wrex who lived life to its fullest in everything he did from fighting to drinking, but still kept a steady gaze and a refreshingly blunt honesty. Tali and Liara, both sweet and awkward and charming in their own ways both blindingly talented in their respective fields. Joker, whose sarcastic wit rivaled his own and whose cockiness was well deserved. And Kaidan. Romantic and noble, troubled, honest to a fault Kaidan, who stirred something in him he had preferred not to ponder too much until that moment.

They say your life passes before your eyes when you die, but he had never really been alive these past few years. Breathing, talking, moving, but not alive, not until he met these people who breathed life and feeling back into him. He had gotten his life together, sure, but he had still been little more than a zombie. His death wish subsided a bit, but the recklessness merely turned into reckless determination as he barreled through ICT on in to a unit that had him feeling friendship and camaraderie once more.

Then he lost it all again, what little sanity he had managed to reclaim, the tattered pieces of the man he would have become had he led a normal life. He had often wondered who he would have become had his fate not been written like some grand tragedy where the hero does not die but instead lives on to fall prey to the hand of fate once more.

Things were normal once. Open fields and native flora on a backwater garden world farming colony. Learning his father’s native tongue from an early age and using it to have private conversations with his brother, which they had gotten in trouble for at school more than once, then again by their father. Learning to play the cello, and a pan flute, and his mother reading poetry or singing in a voice rivaling choirs of angels. Assembling model ships on lazy winter afternoons with his dad and brother. Repairing and maintaining farm equipment with Aidan, both of them covered in grease while Gabe chattered away at them from the seat of the combine. Playing hide and seek in the fields with Tali, Abby and Gabe. Watching their mother’s face, always bright with life, her green eyes twinkling, her long fiery hair swinging about her as their dad twirled her in an intricate dance at a small town festival, a rare grin on his face from the passion she inspired in him. The draining of color in her rosy cheeks when she got word of Erik’s MIA status. The sharp flinty determination in her eye as she looked to him and his dad when they got word of the raid. Ryan bringing out a piece of who he may have been before it was extinguished with his life’s flame.

All of this and more passed before him as he struggled to find the rupture in his suit, but it was too big for the microframe to repair in time. He knew he was spaced. It was a bad way to die, but he'd signed on knowing the risks. Near absolute zero cold slowly crept into his bones, air was pulled from his lungs and his blood began to boil in his veins as the atmosphere leaked out of his suit. His last thoughts were of his crew, wary of him and embarrassed as he eavesdropped on their conversation, smiling and laughing together at the club, solemn and offering one another comfort after Ash’s death, forever being astounded at the types of situations he could talk himself out of, Kaidan prodding and listening and opening up to him, staying silent, not passing judgment. _Maybe I should have pondered that feeling a little more. Even if it was futile._ He found calm comfort in that feeling as a last explosion pushed him away from the remaining pieces of debris and the escape pod getting ever further away.


	2. Tainted Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evolution of the man that became Commander Shepard: Savior of the Citadel, honorary Urdnot, hero of the reaper war and a questionably functional person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to get this posted. It ended up as a little bit of a filler chapter, don’t hate me >.> I could actually hear it cackling manically as it ran off. I revised the last chapter a bit and the next chapter will get back to the story, I promise. And it should be posted a lot sooner as it is done and needs only a little revision. This chapter's song is Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas, because it was too perfect to pass up.

##### Masquerading as a man with a reason  
My charade is the event of the season  
And if I claim to be a wise man,  
Well, it surely means that I don't know  
  
On a stormy sea of moving emotion  
Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean  
I set a course for winds of fortune,  
But I hear the voices say  
Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more no!  
  
Carry on,  
You will always remember

**Mindoir, Shepard Residence: November, 2169**

Quiet, he thought. So very quiet, but then it usually was on days like this. The rain thrummed steadily outside the window, beating rhythmically against the ground and the stone patio and the ever-growing puddles in the yard. The half-hearted drizzle pelted the window he sat perpendicular to in the bay window seat and everything else seemed muffled and still. He’d watched the cold rain for over an hour, just letting the sound fill him with contentedness and serenity as it always did. They often got a lot of rain in the autumn, it was one of the many reasons he prefered this time of year. The harvest was done, school had yet to start up from their break and so all that was left to do was enjoy the down time.

He idly stroked the dark polished wood of his flute as he watched the dark clouds drift over the treetops in the distance. He wondered if the storm would be clearing out by evening. He wasn’t sure of the current time, but he doubted the small amount of rain would impact the night’s events. Harvest festivals were a big deal in any farming colony community.

“You going to be ready to leave within the hour? I know your father had something he wanted you to do before we leave.” He glanced at his mother as she made her way into the room with an easel under one arm and a paint pallet in the opposite hand. A solemn looking Abby trailed after her, balancing a wet canvas gently on her fingertips. He gave a shrug that she missed as she turned her back to him to set the easel against the wall and took the unfinished painting from her daughter to place it back on the frame to dry.

"He didn't mention anything to me. Where is he?"

"He was out in the garage with Erik last I knew." She set the paint pallet on an stained shelf cluttered with tubes of paint and thinner and turned to face him, brushing her fiery hair behind one shoulder and smearing red paint across her cheek in the process.

"I'll go find them." He moved the pan-flute he had been playing earlier from his lap and set it on the bookshelf next to him gently.

"Would you do me a favor and call your brother in before you do that?" She wiped her hands on a paint rag while Abby sat on the other end of the window bench and picked up the calico cat that had wandered into the room.

"Gabe? He’s still out there? He usually gets bored by now." She looked up from her hands and smiled mischievously, her green eyes twinkling with mirth. He matched her smile and glanced out the window, knowing Gabe was playing in the mud somewhere. Though he didn't see him in the backyard anywhere.

"Yes, he's going to need a thorough rising in the mop sink before he’ll be allowed anywhere near the clean floors." He nodded with a smile and left the den with a ruffle of his sisters dark curls and headed down the hall past the door to the basement and the entrance to the living room.

He opened the door and looked out over the front yard. Not seeing Gabe, he shut the door and went down the other hall and through the kitchen to the back door. A quick movement past the patio caught his eye and he turned just in time to see his youngest sibling land feet first in a large puddle with a splash and a gleeful laugh. Gabe proceeded to step out of the puddle and Markus smiled at his muddied boots and his rain sprinkled raincoat and hat. His mud spattered face looked very similar to the way it had the time he’d stepped on a pan of oil, tipping the edge so that it’s contents splattered against his surprised face and the wall behind him. Markus hoped this particular mess would be a little easier to clean.

He slid the door open and called his brother in, making certain Gabe removed his muddied boots before stepping out into the rain himself. He made his way leisurely across the yard and the sodden dirt road to the large outbuilding that housed their farm equipment and machinery, enjoying the feel of the warm rain on his bare arms and shoulders exposed by his tank top.

He entered through the large open door on the front side to see his dad tinkering with something at the workbench, his tall form hunched over, his shaggy dark hair hanging in his face. Erik sat on a stool next to the bench leaning against the wall. They were talking about something. Though he couldn’t hear them from the doorway, the words became more distinct as he approached.

“-Just keep sharp out there. I hear those batarians are merciless pirates and merc bands in the terminus systems aren’t much better.” Their father’s voice was commanding, but laced with a concern only his those close to him would recognize.

“That’s why we patrol the outlying systems,” Erik remarked from where he leaned against the wall.

“I still don’t know why you couldn’t content yourself with a posting to the garrison here. If anything that’s more important than the patrols.”

“The garrison couldn’t stand up to any real threat. They’re a token resource. I want to actually do something useful.” Viktor grunted like he wanted to say something but held his tongue.

“It’s not like they have the numbers to do any more. Have you seen the enlistment statistics recently?” Markus perched himself on the workbench away from where his father was working as he jumped into the conversation. Erik snorted in amusement.

“Only you would keep track of something like that.”

“You both just watch your words around your mother,” their father admonished as he stood. “She’s had a hard enough time dealing with you leaving, Erik. She doesn’t need need to know your brother here plans on following you just yet.”

They both nodded at his words. Erik often joked about her locking him in the basement to keep him from leaving, both before he left for training and since he’d been back to visit before he shipped out, but the truth was that she was still having a rough time letting her oldest child go. Viktor looked like he was about to leave then, but turned to Markus instead and pointed a finger at him.

“You were supposed to do something with that mess of yours in the corner yesterday,” he accused as he gestured towards the clutter of scattered parts littering the opposite corner. Tools and bits of metal lay in piles and spread out across the floor and tool bench. Markus looked down sheepishly, recalling that his father had in fact mentioned something about that the day before when he caught Markus and Aidan dismantling one of their more problematic farm mechs.

“I’ll take care of it before I leave.” His father nodded and patted Erik on the back as he passed him on his way out the door. Markus stood and made his way towards the mess in the corner as he heard his brother come up behind him. Erik whistled and leaned against the wall as Markus began rearranging his mess.

“You sure do know how to make a mess, little brother.” He tossed a dirty rag he’d picked up roughly in the direction of his brother’s face behind him.

“At least I can put it back together, unlike _some_ people.” His brother likely had a smart retort on the tip of his tongue when a booming voice echoed and caught their attention from the doorway.

“Hey, lover boy, what happened to heading out early?” Aidan got closer and grinned upon seeing what he was up to. “Playing Cinderella? Does that make me the fairy godmother, er, godfather?” Markus looked around and was put-out when he realized he had thrown the only shop rag within reach at his brother.

“Shut up, Aidan. I told you to knock that off for a solid hour yesterday.”

“And I maintain that you, my friend, are a liar.” Markus tossed the bits of scrap metal he held in a pile with a clang and took his worn hat off to chuck it at his friend. Aidan dodged it with a cackle and jumped up to sit on the tool bench.

“Why am I friends with you again?” He glared at the smug look on his friend’s face as he crouched to pick up his hat.

“Because I have blackmail material? Besides, you’re just as much of a dick as I am.” He gave the brunette a half-hearted dirty look from under the shadow of his beaten cap.

“Hey, I resent that.”

“But you don’t deny it,” came the pointed reply with a with an emphasizing finger pointed in his direction.

“He can’t.” Markus groaned quietly and let his head fall forward to bang against the leg of the bench in front of him. He had forgotten Erik was there.

“Shut up and make yourself useful, Aidan. Half this mess is yours anyway.”

“You’re the one who wanted to take it apart,” his friend grumbled as he hopped off the table and knelt beside him to help.

Aidan thankfully at least dropped the topic. His brother, being slightly more mature than he had once been, didn’t pursue the topic either even though he was probably ready to burst with questions and jokes at Markus’ expense. Conversation drifted to what they had been trying to accomplish by dismantling the farm equipment, which flew right over Erik’s head. Markus almost chuckled. He used to joke that he was the brains and Erik was the brawn of the family. He had, after all, gotten far better marks on his weapons training than Markus could ever hope to get when he enlisted. He was a crack shot with the pistol his father had taught him to use and could rival a sniper with one at a fair distance, but his brother was a soldier to his bones.

Their banter drifted from technical know-how to Erik’s time in the military. Erik mentioned an intent to try and get into ICT once he had distinguished himself enough. If he was lucky, he’d be offered a spot within the next year or two. That drew Aidan’s attention, and though Markus teased him about whether he would be able to get through such rigorous training, he knew if anyone could manage it, someone as driven as his brother would.

They wrapped up their cleaning quickly and headed towards town from their property on the outskirts. The rain had slowed to a faint drizzle where patchy grey clouds still lingered. Familiar conversation drifted between the three of them as they made their way up the drying dirt road: jibes, running jokes, talk about family, people, school and current events local and otherwise. Markus found himself reminded of the hundred other times the three of them had made the same trek over the years. They’d gone to Aidan’s house a mile down the road, to town for errands or school or just to wander around. They’d spent a lot of time pacing up and down this stretch of road over the last few years. Things would be very different when Erik left for good, he noted for the umpteenth time. He had been gone for months already, but this visit and the changes in Erik brought a sense of finality to it.

The setting sun was painting the thinning clouds in pastels by the time they made their way to the crowded park and the bright lights of the festival. Children shrieked somewhere off in the distance in the mass of people. The smells of baking and cooking meat permeated the air and overpowered the scent of rain still clinging to the breeze. Several kinds of music could be faintly heard from different directions from the carousel music to the radio by the rides to what sounded like a live band playing around the corner down the street.

They made their way down a bustling street, weaving through craft stands, past open and closed shops and games and various attractions including a small petting zoo that had been set up in the vacant lot on one corner. Markus’ gaze was drawn momentarily by the bright banners and streamers slung across the street where a parade had come through hours before. When he drew his gaze away, Aidan had disappeared into the crowd, only to reappear a moment later with a turkey leg in hand and barbeque sauce smeared across one cheek. He gave Markus a grin and Markus shook his head with an amused smile.

They continued down the street, waving at various familiar faces and exchanging the occasional greeting. Erik was approached by several well-wishers, not least of which was a pretty brunette girl Markus was sure graduated with his brother. She saw them from across the street at a craft stand and shouted to Erik before jogging over and throwing her arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek. Markus’ brows rose. Clearly she had been more than just a  classmate, but he found it strange that he’d never met her before. While his brother certainly didn’t lack for charisma and had never lacked for admirers given his strong features, dark hair and bright blue eyes, he didn’t take relationships lightly.

“Erik, I was sure I wouldn’t catch you before you left town. We should catch up later if you have some time.” Her enthusiasm seemed more subdued after she’d released Erik and Markus could just make out a faint blush painting her freckle dusted cheeks. Erik nodded with a smile.

“I’m meeting up with some old friends in a while, but I should be here until late. I’ll give you a call.” The girls blush deepened at that before she looked up again with a bright smile.

“Sure. See you later then.” With that she gave a little wave and walked back to the stand she had been looking at where a group of what he presumed were her friends stood looking at her expectantly and talking amongst themselves.

The three of them continued on their way and Markus watched his brother from the corner of his eye. They made it half a block before Erik noticed and looked at him.

“What?”

“Just curious. Thought I’d met most of your fanclub.” His brother glowered at him for using that word which told Markus one of the things he’d wanted to know; she meant something to him. Though the glare quickly tapered off to a thoughtful expression and a mischievous glint appeared in Erik’s eyes.

“Quid pro quo.”

“Should have seen that one coming.” Aidan snorted to his right and Markus elbowed him in the ribs. Silence fell between them as Markus refused to dignify Aidan’s incessant pestering by discussing the ludicrous notion his friend had about Markus having a thing for one of the seniors in their applied mechanics class. His assumption wasn’t exactly inaccurate, but he was so damned annoying about it that Markus felt the need to prove him wrong.

“You remember my friend Tanner?” The question came out of nowhere a minute later and Markus looked at his brother quizzically before nodding.

“Yeah.”

“That was his sister.”

“Oh. Ooooh,” it took him a minute to process the implications of that statement, but it did shed light on the matter. He may not have to play by the same rules, but he understood.

“Ouch,” Aidan added, “that sucks.” Erik just nodded, having seemingly lost interest in getting anything about Aidan’s cinderella allusions out of his brother.

Eventually they stumbled into a denser crowd of people who appeared to be watching something. The sounds of a guitar and various other instruments weren’t far off. They shifted through the mass of people only to stop short of a cleared intersection.

A band was set up on one corner on a temporary stage and several couples danced in the square. It was a grand concert of dozens of cultures as couples twirled around in everything from formal, to informal dances, folk dances and step dances an unoccupied stage likely designated for line dancing. The crowd around the dancefloor was full of smiling faces of people clapping to the beat or cheering on their friends. A smile overcame Markus as he observed the scene and Aidan nudged him in the shoulder, pointing to a couple dancing near the edge of the clearing.

He instantly recognized the wild red curls and the beaming smile of his mother, but he was somewhat more shocked to see a rare grin on his father’s face as he twirled her around. The merry scene was short lived, however, as he heard a familiar screech.

“Maaark!” A moment later he was nearly knocked over as Abby plowed into him, clinging to his legs. He looked down at her as she looked up with watery green eyes.

“What’s wrong, spatz? (sparrow)”

“Gabe was chasing me. I fell and hurt my arm.” She sniffled and lifted her arm to reveal a small scrape on her forearm. Gabe made his appearance then. Markus saw him peeking between people in the crowd not too far away and he scuttled into the clearing when Markus looked at him.

“And just what do you have to say, Gabriel?” Erik looked at his youngest sibling as he spoke, giving Gabe a stern look as he gestured to Abby.

“I didn’t mean to, Abby. I’m sorry.” Gabe stared at his feet looking remorseful and Abby let go of Markus to hug her twin.

“There you are,” came a winded voice as their neighbor and occasional babysitter approached. April put her hands on her hips and bent to catch her breath before straightening to admonish the twins for running off before she noticed the rest of them.

Markus inwardly cringed as she looked up. She blushed profusely and stammered an apology he didn’t hear. He was too distracted looking for an escape. While she was a nice enough girl, her painful and totally oblivious crush on him made him super uncomfortable. The few time’s he’d been around her for more than a few seconds, she had made awkward attempts to ask him out which he had so far managed to deflect. Erik, thankfully, responded to her apology and for a moment he thought he was saved from another awkward encounter. Until her brother showed up.

At that point Markus really just wanted to hide in a hole or become invisible. This desire was reflected in his subtle shift to stand half behind his older brother. One glance at Aidan revealed a more serious expression than the smug look he had been expecting. It seemed Aidan was distinctly less sure of himself and his teasing when the subject of his jabs stood only a few feet away.

Andrew was his name. Though Markus wasn’t certain Aidan knew that as he had never used it. Markus had been paired with him on several projects over the last few months and he had come to admire Andrew’s wit and intelligence and his innovative ideas. Though he certainly hadn’t failed to notice his roguish good looks accentuated by his shaggy blond hair and the ever present stubble on his face. Markus had unwisely mentioned that observation to his friend in passing and Aidan had been harassing him about it ever since.

On the rare occasion he approached the matter seriously, however, Aidan encouraged Markus to make a move. Markus maintained that his comment did not exceed an objective observation, but in reality he would just rather not make an ass out of himself to someone he felt he could at least become friends with. That and he was pretty sure the seemingly straight upperclassman wouldn’t appreciate his interest.

“Oh, hey, Mark.” Markus looked at Andrew, who had finished his quick exchange with his sister and was now looking at him. “And ah, Aidan, right?” The blond asked, as he pointed at the young man in question. Aidan replied affirmatively but didn’t say anything else.

The following conversation would be a blurry haze to Markus by the end of the evening, but it ended well. He and Andrew had a brief school-related discussion that somehow segued into Andrew inviting him on a walk through the park with the excuse of discussing something or other. His brother slipped away at some point during this conversation, sharing an amused look with Aidan that Markus missed. Aidan for his part offered to console the rather put-out April as a realization finally dawned on her and she blushed and stuttered something incoherent with wide eyes. Aidan shooed them away, winking at Markus as they disappeared into the crowed.

Many long hours later Markus walked home by himself, having parted ways with Andrew at his house down the road. He knew he had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face as he tossed the wooden puzzle ball Andrew had won in ridiculous carnival game in one hand. He was fully aware of the absurd picture he painted, grinning and attempting to whistle a tune he often played on his pan flute as he walked down the road with a spring in his step, a memento from a memorable day and a hickey just under the collar of his shirt.

*******

**Terminus System Station: February, 2172**

“This is the last kind of place I’d expect to find you. It’s almost respectable.” Markus looked up at the asari who had spoken. He gave her an impassive glance before turning back to his drink.

“Had to make a trip to the clinic. Didn’t seem worth it to go back down to the lower levels when there was a perfectly good bar right here.” She sat in the stool next to him, her sharp amethyst gaze glancing over his bruised jaw and split lip. She raised a brow at him, the swirling white marks on her brow shifting with the movement.

“You don’t look too much worse for wear. What was it this time? Another batarian? Vorcha maybe? Human? Or did you finally butt heads with a krogan?”

“Turian,” he replied as he took another sip of his drink. “Went down pretty quick. It’s no wonder he doesn’t pick on people his own size. Fuckin’ prick.” He trailed off into a grumble and went back to staring into the amber liquid in the glass before him.

“You had to haul him to the clinic for that?” He shrugged, not feeling the need to elaborate on the altercation and exactly what the man had said to the young boy he’d been picking on.

“What brings you to this backwater criminal haven?”

“Helyone needed patched up after our last job, but he’ll be alright in a couple of days. And I have a proposition for you. You’d know that if you ever answered my calls.” He slid his glass to one side and finally turned to look at her then. One word was her only explanation: “Logasiri.” His eyes grew wide in shock.

He had run with Meria and her group for the better part of a year. She was at one point a commando, and had encouraged him to get an implant and taught him how to utilize his biotics, though he had never used them in actual combat. He couldn’t bring himself to rely on them and she never pressed the matter.

She and her team weren’t mercenaries per-se, but they did do the occasional odd job for hire. Though they spent most of their time pulling off reckless stunts near batarian space and chasing slavers down. He’d never been a formal member of their little gang, but he’d left and dropped out of contact after a job had gone south several months back and a lot of the team had ended up dead. They all had their own reasons for joining her cause. And together they had managed to hone a wish for revenge into a deadly force. And revenge it was. They’d often raided slaver ships and the occasional camp, bringing pain upon their adversaries as they had brought pain upon so many others, sometimes going so far as to gouge out the eyes of the dead. They had done a lot of crazy shit, things he would later in his life come to regret, but nothing as big as what she was now suggesting.

“That’s a suicide mission.”

“We’ve got a plan. If you’re interested.” Survival odds didn’t concern him. So he agreed to hear her out.

He never made it to Logasiri. He never even made it off the remote batarian mining outpost they’d decided to test their plan out on as a free man. They’d made a critical error in judgment in choosing their practice target. It was nearly four months later that an Alliance unit raided the prison he was locked up in and he was freed. It wasn’t long after he made the fateful decision to enlist.

*******

**Unknown Planet, N6 Recruit Camp: November, 2175**

An open campfire crackled in the small clearing, illuminating the tired and dirty faces of the several recruits gathered around it. There were just thirteen of them total left four weeks into the course and they were all tired to the bone. Some of them, like he and Ryan, had been in several consecutive courses for months on end already. The real world had faded to insignificance somewhere between the N4 and N5 courses for him. They were all in hardcore survival mode a week out into a hostile jungle garden world with little more than survival knives and improvised weapons. N6 graduation was no joke.

There were three groups dropped on the planet a significant distance apart, all attempting to find their way to an undisclosed location with limited knowledge, resources and supplies. One group was commanded by a man named Joseph Douglas, the other by Ryan Ackerman and the last by himself. Their instructors at the villa had finally caught on that he and Ryan, when put together were indomitable, and so they had separated them. He still questioned their decision to put himself in charge of a team, but he was as together as he was ever going to get after five years, and he would do his damnest to keep his men alive if it killed him.

Ryan was as deft a technician as he himself was though, and while their short range communicators were only wired between their individual groups, Ryan had jury-rigged his to broadcast on longer ranged frequencies with his knife and a small piece of metal. Presumably broken from the very tip of someone elses knife, considering it is exactly what Shepard had done with his own knife, but Ryan’s looked to be in perfect condition from where he sat across the fire watching Ryan as he sat sharpening said knife with a stone he had picked up somewhere.

It was by sheer luck they had stumbled into range to communicate with one another, and it had taken several days and a lot of haphazard guesswork with vague topographic maps to find each other. There was safety in numbers when they had so little else to work with. Each soldier had been given the same supplies: a simple set of armor with a built in short range communicator (though that had more to to with the difficulty of hearing one another when they had their helmets on than giving them some kind of edge), 1 survival knife, 1 military grade flashlight, 2 packs of medi-gel, 3 canteens of water, and a compass. The team leaders had each been given the standard equipment plus a rather ambiguous topographic map. Luckily, thanks to Richard Sullivan, their biology enthusiast, and Jessica Barnes, a skilled biotic who went to several years of school to become a botanist before joining the Alliance, they had a rudimentary guide of several types of edible plants they had been able to find throughout their hike.

Shepard looked around them at the great trees and thick foliage surrounding the small clearing. The air was humid and rather high in oxygen, a given considering they were not wearing environmental suits, but the humidity indicated a water bearing planet. It was difficult to see anything through the canopy of trees and vines, and the few glimpses of stars he had caught indicated nothing as to galactic position or the number of moons. He didn’t really know enough about astronomy to be able to deduce much even if they had a clear view he supposed, but someone else may.

They had assigned team watches and agreed to wait until morning to compare notes when they met up late in the day, but restlessness ate at him as he stared at the unknown and hostile environment around them. He thought about some of the creatures they had heard prowling in the dark beyond the fire in the nights since their arrival. The native insect life made its presence known, though the sounds were far from comforting or as welcoming as the sounds of chirping crickets or frogs would be about now. The dull screeching sounds were almost as disquieting as the occasional rustle of plant life indicating larger animals they had yet to see.

“Alright, that’s it,” he said in a voice quite loud in the relative silence broken only by the whispers of soldiers talking amongst groups or in pairs not too far from the quietly crackling fire. Ryan paused and looked up at him from his repetitive motions and the quiet grinding of stone on metal stopped along with the chattering around them. Ryan’s jade eyes fixed on him in silent question from beneath a fringe of shaggy chestnut curls that had not been cut in several months.

He rose from where he leaned against a fallen log and pulled the map out of his pack between his feet, rolling it out on the log and pinning it at one end with his knife. He stepped over the log and kneeled over it and motioned with his head for Ryan to join him. An invitation also extended to the rest of the assembled soldiers who took it upon themselves to gather around the map, careful not to stand between it and the glow of the fire. Ryan pinned the other end of the map down with his freshly sharpened knife as he knelt beside him.

“We traveled due northeast for 5 days at about 70 kilometres a day before we made radio contact and headed east for almost 2 days at the same speed. That puts us here,” he pointed to their relative position on the map. “It also puts our landing zone about here,” he pointed to the origin point of the journey he had just summarized and looked to Ryan, a silent prompt unspoken between them.

“We went due north the whole way, averagin’ about five kilometres a day faster.” Ryan pointed to their estimated drop point. Shepard raised a brow as Ryan’s estimation of his team’s speed. Shepard was often entertained by the man’s tendency to push just that much harder, past the threshold of endurance in anything he did. He often nagged Shepard for not pushing himself, but Shepard believed in pacing and pushing himself, and now his team, just to the threshold, if not just past it. His method, so far, had resulted in significantly less strained muscles, grumbled complaints and overall injury and discomfort than Ryan’s had. The corner of Ryan’s mouth quirked in faint amusement and Shepard rolled his eyes.

“So, we’re looking at about a 26, 27 hour day cycle, high atmospheric oxygen content, significant but seemingly non-harmful amount of water vapor. Likely non-terrestrial air contents as well, but evidently nothing harmful. We have no way of determining where we are. We’ve encountered no resident wildlife, hostile or otherwise, few signs of prey animals, and no bodies of water. So what planet we are on becomes less important by the day. We have, however, gathered a variety of edible flora along the way and despite the heat and humidity we still have a sixth of our water rations.” Ryan nodded as he spoke to the group, the subtle motions caught the corner of his eye as he trailed his gaze over the map for something he may have missed any of the other dozens of times he had looked at it in the last few days.

His mental checklist of facts and figures and statistical estimations troubled him more by the hour as it grew. His voice was clinical, his words efficient in a way he knew many other technicians to be. He wasn’t sure at this point whether it was a good or a bad thing that his brain was only functioning at about half efficiency. Less turning gears meant less paranoia, less distraction, but despite their luck so far, it could eventually become dangerous if they ran into trouble.

He had instructed water be rationed carefully, and the group usually just passed one canteen around at a time. This plan had been initially intended as a way to keep as close an eye as possible on the rations, but he had been drinking very little and he imagined he had been becoming gradually more dehydrated over the last day or two. It wasn’t a danger yet, but he knew his limits and needed his team to be at their best. They were just lucky they hadn’t encountered any combat, in which Jessica may have unwittingly used her biotics and needed more than usual to stay on her feet.

“We encountered a few indigenous predators. Not much bigger ‘n a boar, but just as mean. Catlike, all teeth and spikes and claws. Like someone crossed a turian, varren and a panther.” Someone sniggered at that but Ryan ignored it. “‘Never seen one before. Not sure what they were, but they went down without too much trouble. One nicked McKinley on the arm when they jumped us.” McKinley held up his arm as Ryan’s faintly accented words trailed off, showing off a deep long gash in otherwise untouched armor. One of Ryan’s team, a man in his late twenties or so with a childish look about him, whose name Shepard could never remember, looked like he had something to add as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and looked intently between Shepard and Ryan as he bit his lip.

“Something to add?” He asked as he raised his brows at the anxious man. The man looked relieved for a brief moment, in which time Ryan glanced over at him with a raised brow and a look most people usually assumed was irritation. The man clearly did not know him well enough to assume otherwise by the way he paled a little. Rugged, straightforward, six and a half feet of solid muscle Ryan Ackerman was an intimidating man, and not many people looked far enough past that to see how good of a guy he was beneath that.

“If you’ve got something to add, spit it out, Jacobsen.” Ryan’s words were gruff, but then they usually were. He was a man who believed firmly in speaking one’s mind and communicating effectively. The military was an oddly perfect place for him. He thrived in it.

“Well I was just telling Sullivan about it earlier, and I described them to him as best I could and he thinks they are nemeans. Nemean cats, I mean.” Jacobsen shoved the man beside him and gestured for him to continue. Corporal Sullivan, a tech and renown bookworm in Shepard’s squad, cleared his throat.

“Well I have read about them extensively and seen pictures of them. They are very dark in coloring and have skin tough as a krogans and spikes on their heads and tails. They are aggressive carnivores found on several jungle planets in the Ismar Frontier.”

“Well that doesn’t give us much besides a relative galactic location. Anything else you can tell us about these things?” Ryan’s clipped words elicited an apprehensive glance between the two men.

“Well, that wasn’t the concerning part, sir.” The soldier’s voice wavered and he spoke in a formal tone Shepard had gotten them out of the habit of using within their first day on the planet. “The thing is, it sounds like what they encountered was probably a group of adolescents. Adult nemean cats are about the size of an asian elephant. Proportionate to an ecosystem like this, as is anything else we are likely to find.” There was a faint murmur of worried whispers that rose between the other soldiers as Shepard looked at Ryan. Ryan’s face was impassive, but he could almost hear the exaggerated _“Well, fuck.”_ Ryan was wont to let out in tense situations.

As it was he merely hushed the assembled group and told them to get some sleep before second watch while the two of them compared routes to the destination they had both been headed for before making contact. The group dispersed with grumbles about missing brutal zero-g combat and xenolinguistics courses. Shepard leaned back against the log once they had planned their route and he had put his map away. He looked up at the massive trees, wondering just what other dangers they may hold.

He desperately hoped they didn’t run into any fully grown cats or anything else ‘proportionate to a large ecosystem’. Tough, mean and spiked giant creature sounded like a dangerous enemy, even if there were nine of them now. Hopefully their intuition would serve them well and whatever they were supposed to be looking for would be somewhere near the ridge they were headed towards, the only distinct landmark nearby, still almost a week’s trek away on foot. If not, there was at least what he took to be a large body of water on the map just below the ridge, so even if they were headed in the wrong direction, they would at least have fresh water.

They traveled for several days in relative silence. Any spoken words were quiet and primarily exchanged only when they camped for the evening unless necessary. They continued their meager diet of varied bitter and tasteless plant life, but their water supply was dwindling dangerously and despite the water in the plants, it wasn’t enough between the rationing and the heat. Ryan’s team had been worse off than them and the muggy heat was unrelenting.

It was five days later that they finally ran out. Impressive considering what amounted to about four liters of water each lasted them more than twice as long as it should have. But they were soldiers, Alliance spec ops soldiers. They were trained to do without, and they would if they wanted to graduate, to survive. He still wasn’t really sure how closely the Alliance watched them in these scenarios, but this one was the big one, the final test. He wasn’t really sure if they could or would step in if the situation escalated dangerously over time. He wouldn’t bet his life on it, and Ryan wholeheartedly agreed when they spoke about it over the fire on watch the second day without water.

“You look like shit.” Came Ryan’s blunt statement a while later as he walked around the fire and sat down next to Shepard.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Ackerman. Regs against fraternization and whatnot.” Ryan raised a brow at his rarely displayed humor.

“But no ‘you’re not my type’ argument? Noted. Seriously though, man, you look like a zombie. Nobody else looks that bad yet.” Despite the dire nature of the topic and his musings on the matter he couldn’t restrain his laughter at the irony of the statement. His new purpose in life and his promises notwithstanding, he still felt dead inside most of the time.

"Fitting. I'll be fine. We'll get there by full daybreak tomorrow."

"I know you, Shepard, and I’ve been watching you since we met up, you looked like shit even then. You're pulling the same old shit, taking care of everyone else before yourself, runnin’ yourself into the ground." Shepard shrugged, neither confirming nor denying the assessment. He continued to stare into the dancing flames, rolling a whetstone in his palm.

"I've seen it before, Shepard. You learn more growin’ up on the streets than any school could ever teach ya, more ‘n anyone would ever give ya credit for.” Shepard finally turned to look at him then. “Thought so. You got the same look about ya as a few kids I knew growin’ up. The ones who’d seen the worst of what people are capable of. I watched a few of them die. The ones that didn’t were the ones that got it together. Eventually.”

Shepard looked away from Ryan’s dirt streaked face, defined features half obscured by shadows, and the deep-set jade gaze fixed sternly on him. He looked off into the flames once more, watching the embers on the bottom glow faintly as the golden flames danced over them, crackling quietly.

Even as his mind wandered he could feel his friend’s gaze on him. And wasn’t that just an odd thought. He glanced at Ryan fleetingly as a realization hit him: he would protect this man with his life not just because he had no real reason to live, not just to keep a promise, but because he had genuinely come to care for him as a friend. When had that happened? The fond feeling in his chest when Ryan made a blunt observation or a sarcastic comment, and now this new, less familiar, concerned side of him was eliciting the same feeling.

“I’m fine, Ryan,” he said again. He had a rather dysfunctional definition of ‘fine’ at this point in his life, but that was his buisness. Ryan just snorted quietly.

“Death wish ain’t ‘fine’, Kid.” Shepard didn’t respond to or acknowledge the statement and after a moment he continued. “Most kids like you weren’t raised in the streets till they were older. Those kids were always a bit different, suspicious, but never quite as paranoid. Angry, violent, but never quite as vicious or ruthless as the gangs. They just didn’t care I suppose. I suspect they’d seen some serious shit to end up like they were, to end up with the lot of us in the slums.” Shepard felt distinctly apathetic at his words, but he responded anyhow.

“Maybe they ended up there of their own volition. You ever think of that?” Shepard looked at him then, looked him right in the eye. Ryan met his gaze silently, impassively, just listening. He saw nothing but the fire’s reflection in the man’s guarded eyes glowing cerulean in the firelight and he shook his head. “I doubt it. Guilt will break a man sure as any grief or loss. I never lived on Earth, but there are places just as bad as the slums on backwater stations and criminal havens in the Terminus Systems. I had a problem for a few years, no direction. But I’m here now. I’m good.” The intensity of Ryan’s gaze burned a hole through him and he looked away again, staring into the dark forest beyond the clearing and rolling the stone between his palms restlessly.

“We’ve all got our vices, Mark. We’ve all got our regrets, pain, memories. Some people’s lives are more bad than good, and that’s fact. You can’t make the past go away, I know, I’ve tried, I’ve seen what it does to a man. And I know you can’t let it go either, anyone who says that is either a liar or ignorant. I can’t stand either. But you’re still here, which means you gotta damn well get your shit together and be here, or the next thing ya know you won’t be, and I can tell ya, if it was me lookin’ down on ya, I’d give ya hell for it.”

They shared a look for a long moment. Anything else that either of them may have said was summed up in that look. Ryan’s gaze held more wisdom and knowledge than a man in his early twenties should possess, it held understanding and honesty. The look Shepard returned was much the same, except he had one thing that needed to be said before they put this conversation behind them for good. One thing that even after so long chafed at him in a way that may have elicited a violent response had anyone else said it.

“Don’t call me Mark.”

Ryan raised a brow and may have voiced a question if something hadn’t stirred in the jungle beyond the fire just then. It started as a faint movement of one of the massive vines hanging low from the treetops, then it was a rustle in the undergrowth. The sun would be rising soon, but it was still pitch black beyond the glow of the fire. He and Ryan shared a brief look of silent communication that came so easily between them and they both moved around opposite sides of the fire to wake the others without a sound, pulling their knives out as they did so.

The rustling got closer rapidly and as the last two soldiers went straight from bleary half-sleep to attack mode. They were as prepared as they were going to get by the time the noise reached the edge of the clearing, but there was no being prepared for what found them. A deer-like creature darted swiftly between them, disappearing back into the brush behind them. Several sets of eyes followed it until the creature chasing it appeared from between the trees.

“What the fuck is that?!” Someone shouted as the creature crashed into the clearing. Shepard had been expecting more nemean cats, maybe even a rather large adult one, but certainly not the massive scaled creature that stood before them.

The thing had to be six meters tall. The seven limbed biped was covered in spikes and brown scales with a mouth full of jagged teeth and looked something like a nightmare combination of every vicious dinosaur Shepard could recall learning about in his childhood. He and Ryan shared one look before giving orders for everyone to grab their gear and run. There was just no way they were taking down something so massive and vicious looking with the weapons they had at their disposal. There was no shame in a tactical retreat on this occasion. Especially considering the creature had stopped at the edge of the clearing and was assessing them with its predatorial gaze.

The creature made a grab for Jessica Barnes with two of its long taloned hands and she diverted it with her biotics. The evidently top-heavy creature let out a chilling hiss and regained its balance as they grabbed their packs and made for the route they had planned out. It looked like they would be playing cat and mouse while sprinting to their destination through the thick tangle of vines and undergrowth the tropical environment harbored. Ryan headed up the group as Shepard waved them by, keeping a close eye on the creature as each person disappeared into the thick foliage. He followed the last person out and didn’t look back as the creature hissed again and began its anticipated pursuit.

“This is insane!” Jameson shouted from in front of him after a while as he scrambled over a fallen log in front of Shepard who brought up the rear.

“Keep moving!” Jessica shouted from off to the right. Her figure was obscured by the brush and Shepard attempted a head count of the moving figures ahead of him as they ran, but it was nearly impossible with the greenery and shadows obscuring any clear line of sight. All he could make out were vague silhouettes in the light filtered through the trees and the dancing of the couple of flashlights a few people had managed to pull out while running.

“Sound off! Stay together,” he shouted as he ducked under a large vine, listening intently as the heavy footsteps of their pursuer came a little closer than he would like. The creature made no noise other than the occasional snake-like hiss and the heavy thudding of slow long strides, easily keeping up with them. Barnes, Sullivan, Jameson, his squad all accounted for. Ryan shouted something from the front of the group and all four of his squad shouted from nearby positions of rustling plant life as they made their way through the primeval jungle.

They ran for what had to be half an hour up progressively sloping terrain, not looking back for fear of stumbling in the gradually receding darkness. Shepard could almost feel the breath of the the thing on the back of his neck. They pressed and pressed every time the thing began to gain on them, keeping to places that would be hard for something that large to traverse, but even as durable as they were, even the most impressive N6 couldn’t run at top speed through such terrain for very long on a good day, and they were all dehydrated and tired to the bone after two weeks on such a harsh unforgiving planet. All that was keeping them alive was determination and survival instinct soundly fixed on the flight response. Shepard could only hope Ryan was keeping track of their direction, because he was feeling a bit singled out at the back of the group as he ducked under massive roots and scrambled over rocks with the creature only meters behind him, taking slow but long strides in the thick undergrowth.

Jameson stumbled over a root not too far in front of him and he hauled the man up by one arm, shoving him forward as a soft hiss cut through the air not too far behind him. He dove into a nearby tangle of roots and somebody ahead shouted as they broke into the clearing up ahead that had been filtering less light from the rising sun than the rest of the forest. The monstrous thing behind him hissed and he scrambled further into the tangled roots as it swiped two three fingered hands tipped with mean looking claws at the tough bark shielding him. He squeezed through the tangled maze and came out the other side sprinting with more energy than he thought he possessed. The now angry creature was not too far behind once it realized he was no longer sheltered by the tree.

He saw the others, who had miraculously stayed relatively close together in the chaos, just standing outside the trees before he made it to the clearing. He was too out of breath to question their behavior before he made it to the clearing at the top of the ridge and saw for himself just what the problem was. Three demolished shuttle crafts sat in a clearing no bigger than a small cargo bay. They looked as if they had been crushed and chewed up by a rather large creature, likely the big friendly thing now chasing them as it had come from this direction. There were deep claw marks and punctured holes in them, one was more a pile of twisted metal than anything else, one was half crushed and the third looked more like it had been a chew toy for the large creature.

Those had likely been their ‘you’ll know it when you see it’ objective. Well, their intuition had been correct, whatever good that did them now. The communications in one of them may have been operational, but it was hard to tell without the time to get a proper look. Their pursuer would most certainly catch them if they tried that, and Ryan knew that as well by the look he shot Shepard as he joined the group. They only had seconds to make a decision judging by the thudding of footsteps and rustling of foliage coming up fast behind them. Ryan looked torn and just as exhausted as everyone else who bore expressions from stern determination to poorly masked fear. Shepard shared a look with Ryan and glanced over to the cliff to one side that dropped off to a large body of water below.

“What do you think the odds are this thing can swim?” The creature in question broke through the trees then and hissed angrily. Without responding, Ryan waved the two teams to the cliff and looked over the edge.

“No worse than free fall training or a combat dive.”

The creature behind them hissed and was on them in two quick strides. Ryan had Jameson, Renjou and McKinley dive off the four story cliff as the creature charged them and everyone else scrambled in different directions, not having enough time to jump and avoid the rocks below. It lunged for Jacobsen who stood not too far to its left and Ryan who stood next to him saw it first and kicked the man square in his chestplate, shoving him several feet backwards as Ryan rolled in the opposite direction. This bought enough time for Bosco and Sullivan, who still stood close to the edge, to jump. Shepard silently thanked them for not trying to be heroes while the rest of them played cat and mouse with the towering creature.

“I think I can hold it for a moment, Shepard. It should be enough time for you guys to get gone,” Jessica shouted as the last four of them darted uncoordinatedly between the claws and teeth and a menacingly spiked tail swinging in all directions. The creature snapped and swiped at whoever it could as they formed a half circle around it in the middle of the clearing, their backs to the cliff.

“That’s suicide, Barnes, confusing it is the only advantage we have right now, one person would be a sitting duck regardless of your biotics.” Ryan shouted as the thing swiped at Jameson and caught him in one shoulder, knocking him to the ground with the force and ripping off the shoulder plate of his armor, cutting a jagged gash in his arm. Jessica sprinted forward and cut both of its arms with the short spear she had made of her knife as it made to grab him. The creature hissed and reeled back, seemingly shocked that they had managed to injure it. Ryan helped the man to his feet and Shepard looked over to the trio, now standing far too close together at the creature’s ten o’clock for their previous tactic to work. Shepard stood back at its four, farther away from the cliff and made a split second decision to do something he had not done in a long time. He shouted loudly, more to get the creatures attention than to ensure they heard him.

“I’ve got it, get the hell out of here.” The creature did not turn at his words and instead made a step back towards the others.

“You don’t stand a chance, Shepard.” Her words were not meant as an insult, merely what she perceived as fact. He supposed it was a fair estimation considering what she did not know. Shepard pulled his knife from its sheath quickly and upended it, throwing it with precision into the creature’s back. It hissed and turned towards him with anger simmering in its large black eyes. No other protests came as he saw Ryan shoving the other two towards the cliff, Jessica supporting their bleeding comrade by his good shoulder and looking back as him. Shepard took a half-step back and the creature wasted no time snapping at him with it’s long menacing teeth.

“Markus!” Ryan shouted in warning from across the clearing.

Shepard paid him no mind as he did something he never thought he would do again, and grabbed the creature with his biotics. He heard a feminine gasp from near the cliff’s edge and a gruff ‘go’ from Ryan as he held the creature. It was only seconds that he held it, he knew, but the creature fought his hold the whole time and his eyes closed tightly in concentration as he felt his remaining energy leave him. It required a massive effort from any biotic to hold something this large for any period of time. Let alone one who had never had any proper training or used them any more than what was necessary to keep his skin from itching at not doing so and electrocuting himself every time he touched the smallest bit of metal. The Alliance didn’t know. They had no way of knowing. Another lie, by omission, because he didn’t want to rely on his biotics. He didn’t want others to rely on them. The last time he had tried to use them for anything important…

This was important too, he reminded himself. This was important and he was stronger now. He wasn’t too late and he would succeed this time, even if it killed him. That’s how he should have died the first time; protecting others. It was this determination that kept him holding the creature even as his knees gave out beneath him. Determination, stubbornness, it was a thin line, and he supposed it didn’t really matter as he poured all of his concentration into the slipping grasp he had on the reptile. He could feel its muscles twitching beneath the blue glow suffusing its form and his tightly clenched fists.

It had to have been near ten seconds that he held the thing, maybe longer, with his eyes and fists clenched tightly shut as he tried to focus past the pain that began to ebb behind his eyes and around his implant as his nose began to bleed. He thought it might be shorting out from the strenuous use it was unaccustomed to and that thought distracted him enough that his hold slipped and the creature was free once more. He thought he heard a voice to his right but his eyes were barely open. The pain in his head was like a million nails being pounded directly into his skull and he was only vaguely aware of the creature getting within arms reach from where he was kneeling as a large form tackled him and rolled them out of the creatures path.

“Oh, no ya don’t, ya crazy bastard.” Ryan growled as he stood and hauled Shepard to his feet which promptly gave out beneath him as the other man caught him. Ryan grumbled something but all Shepard was aware of was the pain in his head, the tingles like electric currents across his implant and his lead muscles that were nothing but dead weight as Ryan threw him over his shoulder. A hiss behind them threatened to shatter his skull like glass and the edges of his vision grew fuzzy as he glimpsed the sun rising over the treetops beyond the lake below, oranges and pinks dancing across the still water.

“Stay conscious.” Ryan said as he set him on his feet, still holding onto him to keep him upright. “Hold your breath, Kid.” That was the only warning he got as Ryan bodily threw him into the water below, following him a distinctly unsafe amount of time later. Shepard watched him jump, casting a dark shadow on the sunlight painted stone face behind him. He was quickly engulfed in clear water and felt his heavy armor clad body dragging him down when his limbs refused to cooperate. He finally passed out from the throbbing in his head about the time he felt a hand yank him upwards in the water.


	3. Second Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one feels a bit more disjointed, though that seems to be the theme I'm going with here, but I tried to keep it relatively shortish considering there's not a lot of Kaidan in the second game. Lyrics: A Place Only You Can Go by Needtobreathe, because that song is beautiful. (If you're rereading this and notice a few changes that's because I edited it. The argument between Miranda and Shepard which I had originally written and then taken out and summarized is back. I had taken it out because it felt a little OOC, but upon rereading it I felt it flowed better and added a bit more depth to the point and after a bit of revision it was a bit more in character so I put it back in.)

##### Pain is alive in a broken heart  
The past never does go away  
We were born to love   
And we're born to pay  
The price for our mistakes  
  
Grace, she comes with a heavy load  
Memories, they can't be erased  
Like a pill I swallow, that makes me well  
But leaves an awful taste

It was surreal. Haunting. A place littered with ghosts and rubble worn by time and the unforgiving elements. Two years gone. Two years of mourning the fallen and forgetting and moving on for all who survived. All who lost someone were back to smiling by now. His friends had put all thoughts of him behind them and for once the tables were turned. He was the ghost lurking in the shadows now. And somehow that seemed appropriate as he stared up at the ship’s skeletal remains towering above him in the still landscape.

He felt like an immaterial phantom amongst the wreckage, and for a moment he was almost convinced that he was. Then he recalled his surprise at seeing Tali on Freedom’s progress and her response to seeing him and rethought that.

The renewed confidence and false sense of belonging he had found walking through his new ship vanished along with his sense of reality as he moved through the wreckage like a wraith. He picked up several sets of dog tags glinting in the snow as it buried the scattered bones of the once pristine ship. _His_ ship. The scattered bones of _his_ life.

It was so silent. So still when he stopped walking that only the near-silent gusts of his breath let him know he wasn’t frozen in place, forever immovable, to be buried by the snow like the frozen bodies scattered throughout the wreckage. Bodies of people he regretted not knowing better than he had, people he was supposed to have protected, but just like Akuze he knew he had been powerless to stop it. Though that rationale didn’t stop the all too familiar ache of a wound that felt far more fresh to him than it was to everyone else.

Other than that he was feeling a rather tolerable numbness at the surrealness of it all until he reached out to pick up a half obscured datapad, cracked and barely functional. Pressly’s tone changed drastically in the readable bits of the few uncorrupted entries in his journal, from suspicious and angry, to skeptical, to accepting and downright loyal. Tears nearly threatened to track down his scarred face in the stifling helmet.

It seemed fitting that heartache should be the first thing he felt since waking up to the tattered remains of his life for the third time, but despite the ache most of the numbness persisted. Once was chance, twice coincidence, the third time is a pattern. It just seemed to him that the god he had tried so desperately to believe in his whole life had it in for him despite all of the good he did. He set the journal down and turned from it.

He trudged through the snow, no longer looking at the dog tags he collected as he went, and passively wondered why the Alliance had never investigated the site in the two years since his death. Maybe the escape pods had made it some way before they were picked up and they had just found the wreckage, maybe there was still too much going on after they lost so many ships in the battle against Sovereign. Either way, as he continued on through the graveyard of memories he couldn’t decide whether or not he was grateful to Hackett for giving him the opportunity to see what was left of his former life.

He stared at the MAKO briefly, recalling protracted battles with geth and threshers and precarious maneuvering on the skyway, masked childlike glee at exploring new worlds like the heroes in his favourite old sci-fi vids. His gaze lingered briefly on what was left of the cargo bay and elevator, looking at the crushed metal  to one side that was once the weapons bench with a familiar twinge of guilt penetrating his numb haze. He looked down what was left of the sleeper pod hallway he had spent so many sleepless nights staring down, thinking about his visions and recent events or just writing reports. It had been choked with smoke and flames the last time he had stared down it.

That thought brought him back to his brief argument with Kaidan in the hall. All he had been thinking of at the time was his all-consuming desire to keep Kaidan and what remained of his crew safe. He looked down at the helmet under his arm that was cracked and scuffed, far from the pristine condition it had been in when he put it on that day so long ago. He supposed that was something more tangible than mere words to stand as evidence to the passage of time. He recalled his last conscious thoughts before he died with a clarity that had stood out starkly amongst more muddled recollections when he had first woken up. He pushed the lingering thought away, not wanting to think about it just then.

His gaze eventually lit upon a once mundane object as he continued his perusal of the wreckage, and something akin to pleased shock rushed through him with such force it threatened to choke him. He moved towards the heap of metal with a surge of hope he could not quell and locked his arms around the metal to heave his old locker from beneath the rubble.

Kneeling in the snow beside it he gingerly fiddled with the controls until they complied. The door opened to reveal pristinely preserved contents only rattled by the crash in the sealed locker. His few personal belongings seemed intact despite the rough landing and he was suddenly unspeakably grateful for the sturdy design of the Normandy as he ran his hands over the contents of his locker with disbelief, wishing he could take off his gloves and feel the cold metal of the sealed case that housed his book. He thanked his diligence for it being put back in its rightful place.

His fingertips traced over the contents of a duffle bag reverently as he opened it and poured the smallest items into an open palm. A round rock picked up on an asteroid his first day of ICT training just before he ran out of air. Just as his precarious comm link with the only other recruit left conscious went silent. He had later woken at the base and he and the man he didn’t properly meet until then, Ryan Ackerman, were commended for their fortitude.

Next came his old omni-tool, a timeworn ring, a deck of cards, a chipped survival knife, a wooden puzzle ball, a poem scribbled on an old paper bookmark, a sapphire ribbon, and a lucky coin that had apparently done its job for the contents of the small locker. He snorted to himself as he put the objects back in the bag along with a well-worn hat and a sketchbook and a handful of other seemingly useless things. Sometimes he really was a man built of more sentiment than practicality. Practicality was usually his MO, except when it came to little things most people would discard. Tokens and memories were all he had most of the time.

Perhaps he spent too much time living in the past. That was likely a direct result of always being in the eye of an ever changing shifting storm that intermittently destroyed everything around him. Yet it still, even now, came as a wonder to him that he maintained such a frivolous habit through his many years in the military.

He put the steel box and his old helmet in the bag as well, along with his self-loathing, fond memories and regrets, and zipped it tightly shut. New mission, new circumstances. A ship full of enemies he would have to work with, constantly watching his own back and being branded a traitor for the greater good. Maybe he’d have the time to track down some of his old crew. And maybe, just maybe, they would deign to come with him and help him as he tried to save innocents from inaction and willful ignorance once more.

Foolish hope blossomed within him at the prospect and he drew strength from it. Chakwas and Joker were already behind him. The others may have moved on, but maybe friendship still meant something in a galaxy that was going to shit.

*******

It was more than affection he felt, more than attraction, he decided as he reminisced with Chakwas a few weeks into their mission. Looking back he was certain those were the feelings he had tried not to encourage, but somehow they had become more than that when he was so focused on trying to ignore them, when he was so focused on hiding it. Of course, while he had always known he wasn’t attracted to women, he was never in a place to develop a healthy romantic relationship. And he hadn’t really been in a place to entertain any such thoughts or feelings much since he was a teenager. He did now though. Tipsy and nostalgic and contemplating Kaidan and the future. No matter what it held, one thing was for sure: distance certainly did make the heart grow fonder. And Anderson had flat out refused to tell him where Kaidan was.

The lack of trust stung coming from Anderson. Anderson, who had once trusted him so implicitly without reservation. Anderson, whose confidence in him had always driven him to work harder to justify it. It was something that made him internally cringe in any situation, not being trusted because he was now associated with Cerberus. But coming from people who had always trusted him, who he trusted implicitly in return? From Anderson of all people, it stung more than he would ever admit, but he wasn’t something he could afford to rectify at the moment, not something his conscience could abide.

He and Chakwas swapped stories and traded tales about things both shared and not for what must have been over an hour, maybe two. He wasn’t really sure anymore. He was less intoxicated than Chakwas, but well on his way to being more tipsy than he had been in many years. She shared some of her med-school antics and early career stories with him and he responded in kind with little known tales from his days as an infiltrator and his experiences at ICT.

She told stories about Kaidan and Jenkins and various others he had never met, but Kaidan’s name made his heart twinge painfully even as a fond smile overcame him. He would have to start keeping a tally of how many regrets he had pertaining specifically to that man. It was certainly a significant number, but then the number of those regrets he could or would ever rectify should he ever be given the chance was miniscule, so he supposed the point was trivial. It didn’t stop the feeling though. The feeling of razor wire constricting around his heart every time it beat in his chest as he worried for the man’s safety, wondered about his whereabouts, missed him.

Two years, three months, and seventeen days give or take a few. He couldn’t imagine thinking of Kaidan as dead for that long. Hopefully things had been a bit easier on Kaidan, not feeling the way Shepard felt about him. Shepard tried not to think about it too much.

They talked for a while longer about military life and more philosophical topics, topping the bottle off with a toast to friendship and a twinge of envy on his part that Chakwas had a center to the whirlwind of her life whereas he was always at the center of his own hurricane. He was honored though, glad that he could be someone else's anchor where he himself had never had one. Unless one counted Anderson in the last few years, but it seemed that relationship was a little less sturdy than he had previously thought.

Chakwas promptly passed out afterwards and he made his way rather clumsily to his cabin to sleep off his drunken state and slept rather more peacefully than he had since the beacons had filled his mind with gruesome images. He had a hazy half-thought in the morning as he woke. Recalling that nightmares were one of the many things he’d been running from when he’d had rather dubious relationships with alcohol before. He made a mental note to not drink again for a while.

When he was fully awake, however, the universe reasserted its balance at the lack of nightmares when he got a rather chilling call from the Illusive Man about the situation on Horizon.

The mere thought that he may be the reason Kaidan was in danger was enough to make him loathe his own existence and give him a whole new reason to hate Cerberus for bringing him back. He regretted as they spoke, and not for the first time, working with Cerberus. Not being able to call the Alliance for backup because of the Illusive Man’s agenda. Not being able to look at himself in the mirror in the morning, knowing of the atrocities this terrorist organization had committed and was likely still involved in that he simply ignored on a daily basis.

If Kaidan, of all people, came to harm because of him and his decisions, hard as they may have been to make, that would be the last straw. He knew deep in his heart that that would be a loss he would not come back from. He knew that just as surely as he knew he would give his life in a heartbeat to protect the man. Though that thought was perhaps less profound given who he was, than the fact that he would do anything for the man, anything at all asked of him, even live for him. He briefly wondered if that information would motivate the Illusive Man to contact the Alliance, but he would not risk giving the man that much leverage over him. It was his responsibility to save these people, to save Kaidan.

Kaidan, who he had sacrificed Ash’s life to save not just for selfish reasons, but for his potential, his skills, his morality, and his open minded views that could make a positive impact on the galaxy, on the Alliance. Kaidan who was the closest friend and confidant he'd ever had,  who saw through him like glass and looked up to him and trusted him anyway. Kaidan who was a good, honest and noble man with a shy smile and a guarded heart who didn’t deserve to deal with the consequences of the circumstances Shepard found himself in. Kaidan, who he loved beyond all practicality or right for someone as fucked up as he was.

And with all these things in mind he landed with his team on Horizon with a single minded determination to save these people. To battle his way through whatever they found with a ferocity and speed he had never found within himself before to save the one man who, despite his unending empathy and respect for all life, mattered more to him than almost anything ever had before.

*******

Worry grew within him like a cancer as they fought their way through the colony. They had seen collectors, husks, and reaper possessed abominations, but only a handful of colonists the whole time they had been making their way through the settlement. With each step they took and each empty home they passed, Shepard became more concerned that they were too late to do anything more than watch most of the colonists get taken away. Garrus knew him far too well if the looks he kept sending Shepard and the distracting dialogue he began from his crouch in the doorway behind him was any indicator.

“Aren’t you glad you have me along to calibrate the giant gun, Shepard? You’d probably muck it up,” he drawled as he leaned around the corner to take out a collector making its way around the low wall Shepard was crouched behind. Shepard didn’t miss the strained note in his voice that belied his casual air, the slightly off placement of the headshot wound he had just made that gave away his distraction. Any other time he’d have made some quip about Garrus and his impossible calibrations or jokingly asking him for some tips on over-maximizing calibrations (which he had done before in earnest and it had ended in a lot of confusion), but he couldn’t summon any words, let alone his sense of humor.

He carefully inspected each new face they passed, looking for a familiar one and not finding it. Garrus, for his part, seemed more anxious about Shepard’s unease than anything else and Shepard almost wished his friend was unaware of his concerns. He needed at least one of them level headed, naturally excluding Jack, and thus had neglected to inform Garrus about Kaidan’s presence on the colony.

Noting Garrus’ distraction he shoved his unease to the back of his mind as they killed the last few collectors in the clearing. He moved swiftly around to a balcony with refocused determination to try and come up with any plausible way to rescue the colonists already on the ship. Though he refused to give up hope of finding Kaidan, he had to have a backup plan. And he had to maintain a facade of confidence and calm he was certainly not feeling at the moment.

He continued to scan each and every face they passed, hoping, praying, to a god he grudgingly believed in despite his resentment towards him, that Kaidan’s would be among them. He had not seen it by the time they arrived at the spaceport tower and the ensuing battle had him too preoccupied to think about it much.

By the time he’d finally sheathed his particle beam and approached the control panel once more he discovered his fears were unfounded as Kaidan made his way towards them in long sure strides. Though his concern was assuaged, it quickly became apparent that the joy and sheer relief flooding him was equally unwarranted. He was only afforded a brief moment of overwhelming relief as he took in the confident man in front of him.

He fought the impulse to pull the man into a crushing hug and settled for a firm handshake that lasted perhaps a bit too long and a friendly greeting that came out a bit more casually than intended. It was so easy to forget how much time had passed and how much different things seemed to everyone else when it seemed like only a few long weeks to him since he had seen Kaidan last. While that relatively short time seemed so long to him when everything was so different and alien, the last two years had changed so much for everyone else.

The man that stood before him now bore a marked difference from the reserved and formal lieutenant he had met what seemed like so long ago. He’d put on rank, he stood and spoke more confidently. It seemed like he had finally turned his calm and restrained equanimity into a strength. This marked change made itself more noticeable when Shepard’s greeting quickly turned into an argument. Shepard pretended it didn’t feel like a punch in the gut when Kaidan stepped back from him when Cerberus came up. There was that loss of trust again, pulled away like the quick hand of a con-man playing a game. Kaidan’s look was tinged with something that looked like hurt but it was quick to be hidden behind anger if it was there.

He kept cool, calm, ever diplomatic, ever impassive even as each angry word Kaidan spoke dug into him as he tried to explain himself to a man far too stubborn for his own good. He would have smiled at Kaidan’s stubborn streak rearing its head so casually when he’d once had to fight tooth and nail through the man’s impassive facade to get an opinion out of him. However, the situation was growing more tense by the second.

There was that righteous indignation he’d always admired. The noble streak of firm morals that when set upon revealed a once rarely seen side of Kaidan. The only problem was, that indignation was directed at him. It cut him to the bone and made guilt settle somewhere inside him. He scowled internally at himself for allowing more guilt to pile up on his conscience as Garrus interjected.

“You’re letting the way you feel about their history get in the way of facts.”

“Maybe, or maybe you feel like you owe Cerberus because they saved you. Maybe you’re the one who’s not thinking straight.” He looked to the ground and took several angry paces away from Kaidan, Garrus and Jack. He stopped a few meters away by a crate and unsuccessfully tried to curb the sharp angry words on his tongue. A stronger part of him, however, was fed up with diplomacy and disciplined words in the wake of Kaidan’s anger.

“Gott verdammt es, Kaidan. Klopf es ab! Du verhaltst wie ein kind. (God damn it, Kaidan, knock it off! You’re acting like a child.)” He nearly shouted in his frustrated anger. “You think I want to help them, for any reason? After what they did to Toombs, to Ryan, Jessica, Jameson, Kohoku, countless other innocent people, their own people even?” The curse slipped out without consent as he struggled to put his frustrated and jumbled thoughts into a language he was more used to speaking. The result was a strained voice laced with an accent he had never heard come out of his own mouth, likely noticeable even with translators, though he doubted Kaidan’s was in use here. Kaidan looked unfazed when he turned to face him again. Garrus looked on-edge and Jack still watched the argument impassively.

Shepard wanted to tell Kaidan just how many opportunities he took to undermine other Cerberus operations and collect intel, about his ongoing operations for Hackett. He wanted to prove to him that he still had the same memories, most of the same scars, the same concern for his crew, the same loyalties and determination and fucked up psyche. He was the same person who had lied to spare Kaidan guilt, rehashed old wounds and weathered new ones with him, fought beside him and trusted him implicitly with far more than he knew. The words stopped at his heart which had lodged itself in his throat as he stared at a familiar frown accompanied by hooded brown eyes and brows furrowed not in confusion but anger.

“You’ve changed, but I still know where my loyalties lie. I’m an Alliance soldier, always will be. I’ve got to report back to the citadel. They can decide if they believe your story or not.” Shepard said something then, he wasn’t sure what. He hoped it was something less pitiful then the plea of understanding playing on repeat in his head as he recovered from the emotional whiplash the conversation had given him. He didn’t ask Kaidan to come with them. He knew what the response would be and he couldn’t stand any more of the indignant anger aimed in his direction. It was almost a relief when Kaidan finally left with a half-hearted ‘take care’. Almost, save for the gaping wound he left in Shepard’s chest.

*******

His conversation with the Illusive Man that followed that day only made him angry he couldn’t physically punch the man in the face. It drove the splinter of self loathing that much deeper to hear the asshole drone on about things he had no buisness meddling in, about Shepard “resolving his past relationships.” The man had the gall to question his determination and loyalty to his mission when it was the only thing driving him now. His frustrations with Cerberus personnel only intensified with the events of the following weeks. In retrospect, he should have seen it coming to a head.

He thought infrequently of the angry message he’d received from Toombs. Condemning him for working with Cerberus, cursing him and believing he had turned his back on the memories of their fallen comrades. He carried those memories like stones that seemed lighter only when he struck a blow to the organization he was now working with. He left the message there in his inbox as a reminder, taunting himself.

He had wondered from time to time, if maybe any of the others had survived. Then he would  recall the screaming, the hiss of acid as it connected with flesh and armor, the screeching of the massive creatures as they reveled in their slaughter, the sound of assault rifles and SMGs going off in all directions. He recalled the look on Ryan’s face when the thresher speared him through the back because he had shoved Shepard out of the way, the desperation in Ryan’s voice as he told him to keep moving, the faint numbness of the stray bullet cutting through him as his CO dragged him to his feet. Eventually he stopped entertaining that question so much.

He thought of the horrors they’d seen on Pragia. Kasumi had kept up a morbid commentary about dissecting children and how sick those scientists had to have been to torture children in such a way. Jack’s brief explanations and stories painted a darker and darker picture as they made their way through the building. Shepard felt sick to his stomach the whole time. He saw the bitter irony in the fact that he could have so easily been one of those children when he’d once thought BAaT was the worst thing that could have happened to him. He couldn’t help but wonder what Kaidan would have thought, or rather what he would have said about it. He certainly would have been outraged. He probably would have given Shepard another lecture about Cerberus.

While their side trip to Pragia had disgust worming its way through him, the feeling was only compounded by what he saw when he put an end to project Overlord. It only made him more anxious to see their mission through and cut ties with Cerberus as soon as possible. The Illusive Man’s excuses in the letters that followed both incidents just pissed him off. The ever frequent mission reports and messages that subtly implied Cerberus’ less than acceptable list of priorities still drove him up the walls. And the frequent reminders from many members of his team about not trusting Cerberus were becoming a constant grating background noise in his head.

Punching Dr. Archer and putting a gun to his face like he deserved did little to ease his growing revulsion and he finally lost his grip on his growing irritation while talking to Miranda one day. He really tried to get along with the woman, despite her loyalties. He tolerated and even helped her through her self-deprecating rants and mostly held his tongue when she broached subjects she had no buisness bringing up.

_ “I trust you,” he said, not entirely sure if he was being honest, but sensing this conversation was going to take a bad turn. “But I don’t trust Cerberus. Your experiments crossed the line many times over.” He maintained a firm yet placid tone while he spoke, keeping his stronger opinions in check even as the topics of conversation continued downhill. _

_ “All the time, yes, but I recall a Spectre who crossed a few lines while hunting down Saren and the geth. And we’d be lucky to have you, too many join us out of simple xenophobia. We need more people here for the right reasons.” Shepard’s jaw clenched and despite his desire to steer the conversation in a more diplomatic direction, his less respectable impulses got the better of him. His irritation and indignation came through the cracks by way of a faint undertone in his voice. _

_ “The right reasons? What could Cerberus have possibly been trying to prove by experimenting on children like Jack?” He asked incredulously, barely tempering the sharp accusatory tone he wanted to use. _

_ “A mistake, no question, but not mine. And one that was corrected once we discovered the extent of the experiments being performed. Teltin went rogue long before it was discovered.” _

_ “You sound just like the Illusive Man. I saw your bases years ago. You were using rachni, thorian creepers, even husks to make your own army!” _

_ “The husks were already dead, the thorian creatures were mindless, and the rachni were abandoned once we understood their intelligence. We weren’t breeding an army, we were breeding expendable shock troops for high risk scenarios. How many soldiers died in Saren’s attack on Eden Prime? How many would have lived if we’d had just a dozen rachni soldiers on our side?” _

_ “Don’t preach about your noble intentions to me.” He stood and approached the window, turning his back to her and the rest of the room as he spoke. “I was on Eden Prime. I saw the charred corpses of soldiers and civilians alike. Those husks and thorian creepers were people once, Miranda. And the rachni were only abandoned because they couldn’t be controlled. What did intentions get you when those experiments got loose across the galaxy to terrorize and slaughter people? I watched thresher maws slaughter four dozen good men and women, my friends. Only to find out years later, it wasn’t the most unlikely of accidents, but some twisted fucking Cerberus experiment,” he spat the words like they were poison and continued before she could get a word in.  _

_“Where were your noble intentions then? Cerberus started the experiments on Pragia in the first place, even before Teltin went rogue. They bought slaves and kidnapped children to experiment on. I’ve seen a hell of a lot more humanity in a krogan mercenary than I’ve ever seen in Cerberus. I’ve never killed an innocent person, Miranda. I’ve never done anything half as detestable as what Cerberus considers a matter-of-course and I never intend to.” He kept his voice low, almost menacing through his tirade._

_ “Not to sound philosophical here, Shepard, but innocent is a matter of opinion. Those accidents are regrettable, but Cerberus does what it has to for-”  _

_ “For the good of humanity, yes. I’ve heard it a thousand times. What Cerberus, and clearly you, do not understand, is that the end does not always justify the means.” He was more matter-of-fact now, mirroring her icy calm as he attempted to get his point across. Inside he was still seething. Part of him wondered if he was just being stubborn, but he needed her to at least concede to stop attempting to drag him into Cerberus. To at least accept his views even if she did not agree with them as he was usually polite enough to do with her. _

_ “That’s your opinion.” She got up and crossed the room, stopping a few paces behind Shepard and continued in a placating tone. “Look, Shepard, I don’t excuse everything Cerberus has ever done, and I don’t know what happened on Akuze, but-” He spun on a heel to face her derisively as she continued to argue. _

_ “Always with the ‘but-’s and the feinghts and the excuses. I can’t tell if it’s sheer stubbornness at this point or if you actually believe the bullshit that man has put in your head. If you have to make that many excuses for them, that should clue you in that something is wrong!” _

_ “The Illusive Man does what he has to, what no one else is willing to do! Cerberus has done some regrettable things, but it’s also done a lot of good. They brought you back, didn’t they? They rebuilt the Normandy and sent you after the collectors. They’re saving lives!” Both their voices had risen in pitch gradually and they were arguing rather loudly now, though neither of them noticed. _

_ “Don’t pull that one on me again, Lawson, I didn’t ask for this! Did you ever once stop to think that maybe I was content with being dead? With finally getting a break from the constant bullshit?” _

_ “Oh how noble of you to refrain from putting a bullet in your head, then!” _

_“Maybe I am. Cerberus isn’t saving lives, I am, my team is. I’d do this with or without their help. They’re using me as a tool to make themselves look better. And I’ll let them, because saving lives means more to me than my image or friendship or my self-respect!” _ Or love, or any semblance of restful sleep _ ,  he didn’t add. They were both breathing heavily from shouting and jagged exhales were the only sound between them as they glared at each other. _

_ “Uh, Commander?” Came the tentative voice over the com a beat later. Shepard’s gaze flicked to the speaker overhead briefly before returning to Miranda. _

_ “What is it, Joker?” Came the gruff response. He cleared his throat to ease the rough edge to it. _

_ “EDI’s being polite by not prying and all, but she did notify Garrus and Jacob of some kind of argument, I think they’re headed your way. Is everything ok down there?” _

_ “Fine.” Shepard sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand and rested the other on his hip in an attempt to focus himself before looking back at Miranda who had visibly deflated. He sighed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’ll never accept or respect Cerberus, I have a sordid history with them and I will never be able to forgive them for the things they've done, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.” He  turned to leave, but he stopped and turned back around when she replied. _

_ “I’m sorry too, Shepard. I suppose I can be a bit...forceful. It’s always gotten me what I needed before. I supposed I just need to learn to respect your opinion in this. I know this hasn’t been easy on you. I guess those feelings just needed airing, for both of us.” The door hissed open behind him as she held out a hand. “Forgiven?” He nodded and took her smaller hand in his with a half-hearted smile. He hoped this would really be the end of this. _

Though he felt he and Miranda had cleared the air between them and things were only a little tense between them for a couple of days. He avoided that part of the ship for a few more days for good measure and the incident was seemingly forgotten about within that time. And when they saved Oriana, Shepard felt they had finally found a common ground. He smiled at her, genuinely happy for her, as she went to get to know her sister. When she smiled back, hope blossomed in his chest that their new found truce could maybe even approach something resembling friendship. 

He stopped avoiding the commons area of the ship after that, thought it was nearly a week before he found himself in there again, sharing a companionable silence with Thane whom he had grown rather close to over the past several weeks. They were headed towards the Omega 4 relay and uncertain fates, but he and Thane sat calmly, sharing the weight of uncertainty, but not perturbed by it.

“Have you ever been in love, Shepard?” Thane asked out of the blue, interrupting their silence. Shepard lowered the datapad he had been reading, setting it on the table in front of him. He stared at the words of Miranda’s report on the screen, thinking about his reply before finally giving a guarded but honest reply.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I was simply musing on the nature of love, its various forms and implications. Family, the bonds of friendship, romantic devotion.” Thane leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, supporting his chin on laced fingers. Shepard leaned back in his chair and got comfortable, sensing another of their long philosophical talks he so valued impending.

“And what have you found?”

“It is...more complex the more one looks at it.”

“And simpler the more one tries not to.” Thane fixed his gaze on Shepard. Though Shepard liked to think he was getting better at reading the drell’s body language, he sensed more than saw the question in Thane’s eyes. “I seem to have made a habit of falling for the wrong people.”

“You are a good judge of character, Shepard, it is hard to believe you could ever care for someone undeserving of your affections.”

“It’s not-it’s-” He cut what he knew would sound like a self-pitying rant short and summed up his point with a simple statement. “Ryan died saving my life.” It took a moment, but he could tell Thane understood the implications of his admission. Shepard had mentioned Ryan before when Thane had talked about his long sleep. Shepard had empathized with living on autopilot until meeting someone that changed his life. They had both lost that person.

“So is it that you regret loving him; or that you feel your emotions somehow contributed to his death?”

“Neither. It... wasn't that kind of love, not really, but it got me thinking. And I look back and wonder if I would have wasted my life away wanting something out of reach; if I will.” He wondered more so now, but he supposed it was irrelevant.

“And the other person?”

“That's...just somebody that I used to know.” Thane acknowledged his clear reluctance to elaborate with a nod. The two of them had silently established a mutual understanding about off-limits topics. Shepard was grateful for it, even though he imagined Thane heard a great deal about those topics from other sources.

Shepard had honestly thought at one point that he would prefer directness to gossip, he recalled several conversations with his old crew on the subject, but now he realized that had been premature and even a bit generous of him. As the list of things he’d prefer not talk about grew, he found himself almost grateful for the stories that floated around on such a small ship. Even if most of them were exaggerated, shoddy on details, or in some cases entirely untrue.

“Do you think-” Shepard began before stopping himself. He hadn’t thought his query through before voicing it.

“Yes?” Shepard berated himself for what he was about to ask, but curiosity ate at him and he knew he’d already stepped in it as he met Thane’s dark eyes staring at him expectantly.

“Do you think you’ll ever find it again? What you had with Irikah.” Thane chuckled softly, far from the reaction Shepard had expected.

“Assuming we survive this, I still do not have a lot of time left, Shepard.” At Shepard’s frown he continued. “I have led a good life. Thanks to you I will leave it with no regrets. And hopefully our accomplishments here in the next few hours will allow me to atone for some of the things I have done.”

They lapsed once more into silence as Thane became lost in his thoughts again. Shepard pushed away lingering thoughts Thane’s last statement had stirred and turned once more to looking at the report in front of him, musing once more over how sly Miranda thought she was. He’d known she would try to spy on him from day one. He and Mordin had had a good laugh over it when the salarian had spent his first day on the ship removing hidden bugs, cameras and microphones from his lab. Shepard had done the same in his cabin before hacking the substandard lock on his door and effectively making the room impregnable.

Miranda was surely aware of the fact that all of Cerberus’ expensive toys found by him had been crushed to tiny bits by his biotics, because he wasn't as nice as Mordin, but she had never mentioned it. Still, it was almost cute that she thought he wouldn’t know she read his mail and personal files. And yet she remained oblivious to the fact that she saw only what he allowed her to see. It wasn’t like he had much to hide concerning his correspondences, but some things he kept private, like his letters from Toombs and Talitha, his more sensitive communications with Hackett, his personal files.

It was comical to think she believed her hacking skills were a match for his given his history of using them for less than respectable purposes. Then again she probably wasn’t aware of that.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Thane’s omni-tool chirped across the table. Thane made a gesture and Shepard smiled and nodded before getting up to leave Thane to his call. He picked up his datapad and made for the door. He could hear Thane and what he was fairly certain was Kolyat’s voice as the door closed behind him.

Shepard contemplated getting back on the elevator but decided to check in on Garrus before preparations for the relay jump later in the day really got under way. He ended up stopping once he’d rounded the corner to observe the large portion of his team gathered in the mess hall. He put his old infiltrator training to use as he slipped around the room unseen. He poured himself a mug of lukewarm coffee before leaning against the counter and silently observing the state of his team's morale.

Joker was laughing at something Garrus had commented on, briefly interrupting Zaeed who was saying something next to him. Grunt seemed amused in that more subtly amused krogan way Shepard sometimes saw. The familiarity of the scene struck Shepard as he sipped his coffee and watched his squad with fondness.

Zaeed regaled Joker, Grunt and Garrus with one of his exploits while Jacob and Miranda appeared to be having a more serious conversation at the opposite end of the table. Shepard could see Mordin speaking with Chakwas through the window of the med bay. The salarian’ eyes were bright in a way that indicated enthusiasm about whatever they were talking about. Samara, Legion and Jack were predictably absent while he knew Tali was occupied helping to install the IFF. And though he couldn’t see her, he felt the tell-tale prickle on the back of his neck that indicated Kasumi was nearby somewhere. She was probably sitting somewhere people watching, or Jacob watching, he supposed was more likely. He smirked at the thought and looked over the present members of his team once more.

Despite the feeling of nostalgia the sight brought back, it also felt drastically different. It felt almost wrong, if he could use that word within the confines of his own mind. There was laughter, and quiet chatter, and playful jokes and stories, but it was lacking something.

It was different for sure, but he had built up a rapport with his team, even considered most of them friends on some level. While he could hardly say he knew all of them well, he certainly had found something to respect in each of them.

He and Miranda had finally settled their differences and the awkwardness had ebbed. While it was unlikely they would ever see eye to eye about Cerberus, he respected her loyalty. Jacob didn’t have a lot of direction, but he did possess a surprising trustworthiness and morality Shepard would have never before associated with Cerberus personnel. Thane was quiet, thoughtful; he understood loss and responsibility and regret. Something, Shepard had confided in him he too knew more about than he would like. Fortitude, skill, trustworthiness, intelligence, humor, all these things his team possessed and more, but despite the obvious differences even after months he still had issues reconciling how things used to be with his present reality.

The camaraderie of a smaller tight-knit group united by something they had all just tumbled into by chance was different. This lacked the same strength of purpose, the same comfort, the ongoing friendly debate, the teasing, the drunken joviality, the silent communication. Or maybe it just lacked subdued smiles and careful words, and cognac colored eyes backlit by a myriad of emotions that never showed on an impassive face. Maybe it was just missing Kaidan. Or perhaps he was just being sentimental and foolish. That was quite likely.

He thought back to a conversation he’d once had with Tali when she was feeling homesick on her pilgrimage. He’d said something encouraging when she brought up not appreciating what she had in the flotilla, but looking back on how he’d left things with Kaidan was a similar story. He supposed he’d taken that friendship for granted. Or perhaps, with them staring death down on a daily basis, he’d just prefered not to think about just how much more than friendship Kaidan meant to him. _“Losing you was like losing a limb,”_   he’d said. Shepard had lost so much more than that when Kaidan had looked at him with such betrayal in his eyes, though.

He shoved those thoughts away and turned his attention back to the chatter around him.

“-and so the guy next to me in the cell says ‘I got a plan,’ takes a shiv, and stabs me in the arm. So I twist his arm around and take it from him while he shouts. And we scuffle for a bit before the guard shows up and when he does I reach between the bars and put the thing between his four eyes. It was a piece of cake after that. Stole his gun, started a riot and got the hell outta there. Shot my cell-mate in the shoulder before I left though, payback for the hole in my arm.”

Ah, batarian prison, Shepard recalled without a hint of fondness. It sounded like Zaeed hadn’t had the pleasure of really getting acquainted with the one he’d been thrown into. Well, the man survived a shot to the face, he probably could’ve taken a few months of torture without much trouble.

“I still don’t understand why batarians have prisons at all. I mean, drawing a line between slavery and execution? That doesn’t sound like most batarians I’ve met.” Garrus’ voice held a note of genuine contemplation.

“Don’t misconstrue their motives,” Zaeed clarified. “That’s not where they put you for theft or murder or anything like that. That’s where they put you when you’ve _really_ pissed them off.” Garrus’ telltale twitch of mandibles indicated he knew exactly what that meant. Shepard absently nodded in agreement from where he stood. He kind of wished he’d been paying attention to the beginning of Zaeed’s story. He wondered what the man had done to become so intimately acquainted with the inside of a batarian prison. Likely not anything similar to what Shepard had done to end up in one. Freeing slaves and profaning dead batarians didn’t exactly sound like things he’d make time for.

He looked over to Jacob once more who still appeared deep in conversation with Miranda. Probably giving her the rundown on what had happened with his father the day before. He and Shepard were supposed to have a warm-up spar before they left to test out the IFF. It looked like they would probably not have time for that now, however. They only had an hour before they left and Garrus was still occupied. So Shepard left the mess hall for his cabin to don his armor and compose a message.

*******

“Kaidan...I’ve rewritten this message more times than I care to admit over the last few days. But I suppose I should just improvise and say what I need to say here considering I’m out of time.

"I suppose it was irresponsible, even arrogant, of me to not have recorded a message of this nature before. I suppose I’ve just never had anything to say, but I promised I’d make it back from this. So that I could maybe, someday, say some of these things in person. And you know how I am about promises...or maybe you don’t. I suppose I know you about as well as you seem to think you know me these days, but I haven’t changed, at least not in any way that matters.

“I feel almost ludicrous sitting here trying to justify myself to you. Feeling like I have to. Especially considering how uncertain it is that there’ll be anyone to send this message if I’m not around to say these things myself. We don’t know if we’ll even make it through,” he sighed quietly on a pause, hoping it wasn’t loud enough to be heard on the recording.

“I can be a man of many or few words depending on the circumstances. But I never know what to say to you, K. I tried so hard to contact you before the last time we met, but they wouldn’t tell me where you were.

“And I suppose I held on to empty hope for weeks after our talk on Horizon. Hope that you would contact me, or anyone for that matter, after the dust had settled; even if it was just to get more angry words off your chest. I wanted to say so many things then, but stubbornness got the better of me, anger at everything, frustration, guilt and more anger.

“None of this needs justification now, though. Success will be its justification. We’re ten minutes out from the Omega 4 relay and maybe as far from death, and I can’t help but think back to Illos, the last time we did something this risky. It really wasn’t so long ago for me. This is so familiar, yet so different. It feels different. Maybe it’s-” _having a reason to see the other side of this mess._

“Sorry, I’m rambling now. I just needed to say these things without all the feelings in the way, so you’ll understand, I mean _**really**_ understand: I hate myself for working with Cerberus, I have since day one. For having to be so on edge all the time and starting arguments and constantly suppressing thoughts of the people they’ve murdered and worse. It’s not fun for me, Kaidan. It’s not loyalty or trust in them, but my team. They’re good people. Good friends.” His emotions came through clearly in his voice, regret, anger, sadness and conviction. And he let them. This was why he had recorded the message instead of writing it.

“I wish I could afford the stubborn dignity you maintain, but I can’t. Countless lives hinge on this, among other things. If I survive this, maybe we’ll cross paths again, and maybe you’ll hate me a little less. At the very least you may see the others. I don’t intend for this to be a suicide mission for anybody else if I can help it. I don’t have control of all parameters, but I’ll do my damnest to get them out of there if it’s possible.

“You were the best friend I’ve ever had, Kaidan. The best man I ever knew. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for leaving you twice over. And I’m sorry we never got the chance to fix things between us. I know that probably doesn’t mean much, if you even still care, but I want you to know that I am in part grateful that you aren’t here with me. I know your life isn’t exactly the safest, but at least if this goes bad, I know you’re still out there somewhere. Making the galaxy a little brighter. Ich- (I-)” he sighed, biting off the words he couldn’t say in such a manner, the words he so wanted to say aloud, if only once. He changed his tone and continued after a short pause. “It was an honor to have known you. I know you’ll make me proud.”

He looked at the timer he’d set at the ten minute mark to see he had only a couple of minutes to get to the cockpit. “Well, here goes nothing.” He ended the recording and stared at the file on his console for a long moment. Before he could over think it, he flagged the file and shut the console off with a sense of finality. He slid over the black sketch book that was sitting on his desk and opened it to one of his older sketches. He fingered the drawing carefully, tracing the shadowed planes of Kaidan's face briefly before shutting it. And for once, he faced death with a determination to make it out of the coming storm still standing, determination stemming not solely from his mission, but from words left unsaid.


	4. Bitter Reunions, Reminders and Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken so long to update. I got busy with school and distracted by DA:I, broke my elbow and other crazy stuff. So chapter this has been done for some time but I've finally cleaned it up a bit and gotten around to posting it. Previous chapters have been cleaned up a bit as well. It's the shortest chapter yet, and a bit of necessary filler because head-canon and plot bunnies and such, but that's simply a technicality. The next chapter is almost finished and will be the longest yet, so that's here and there. I will be posting that soon. Lyrics are from Richard Walters "Elephant in the Room" Abelas for the long wait!

##### And I hope you can see  
I'm more than this, this heap at your feet  
Who are you to judge me?  
Who are you to preach?  
Control has slipped away from me again  
  
How heavy are these words?  
They're heavier than air  
That rushes past your face as you drive away from me again  
How heavy are my hands?  
They're heavier than blood  
That rushes to my head as I will walk away from here again  
  
How heavy are these words?  
They're heavier than air  
That rushes to my face as you turn away from me again  
How heavy are these words, heavier than time  
That rushes past your face as you would turn to walk away again

 

Six months under house arrest. Well, confinement to the base anyway. He’d expected _something_ to happen when he returned. Though he preferred not to think of it as ‘turning himself in,’ as he had also come to deliver a warning. Though that had pretty much been the case.

He had warned his crew about what he’d intended to do before returning to Alliance headquarters. And while he had fully expected something along the lines of a court martial, discharge, or imprisonment, this wasn’t exactly the prison he had imagined. And after so long, he was convinced they just didn’t know what to do with him. His infractions hadn’t exactly been textbook situations, after all. He had been dead, undead, AWOL and still doing independent jobs for the Alliance, providing them with intel, working _with_ but not _for_ a known terrorist organization. He hadn’t quite respected how complicated the situation was from the Alliance’s standpoint until he’d had six long months to reflect on it.

He hadn’t seen Joker in months. He wasn’t sure what had happened to the pilot, but he really hoped he wasn’t in trouble on Shepard’s account, or grounded again. He had no clue what was happening outside the base aside from the occasional snippet of overheard information. He had no real contact with anybody aside from his new chaperone and it was all slowly but surely driving him insane.

Day after day he spent in a monotonous routine of reading and working-out, watching the occasional vid and talking with James about inconsequential things. He’d even spent a week creating and installing auto-hacking and neural input recalibration protocols on his omni-tool once he’d been allowed to have it back. Visits from Anderson were few and far between and the man was never forthcoming with information. However, Shepard was not surprised to learn the man had finally become fed up with bureaucracy and politics and returned to duty. He had certainly not wanted to condemn the man to a political position, but Udina was not fit for a position of power. In Shepard’s experience, anyone seeking power, was usually not fit to wield it, and the good men who would use that power for good did not usually seek it out. Regardless, he had always seen the man’s resignation from the councilor position as inevitable.

He had wondered rather sardonically since Anderson’s last visit, when Shepard had addressed Anderson’s promotion for the first time, what his own life would be like now if the last two and a half years had never happened. What rank would he hold if the collectors had never intervened in the course of his life? Where would he be? Where would everyone else be? Like most thoughts he had when he was left alone in his head for too long, he tried not to dwell on those ‘what-ifs.’

Seeking to escape his own head for a while he turned up the stereo that had been playing since his morning workout and looked out over the courtyard below once more, watching a small figure make its way across the grass. He had seen the boy playing in the small patch of green a handful of times before. He assumed he was the child of one of the soldiers posted to the base, but he wasn’t sure.

While it always brought a small smile to his face to see such carefree innocence in times as troubled as these, it didn’t escape his notice how solemn the boy seemed. Perhaps it was just the weather souring the boy’s mood. Personally Shepard found familiar comfort in the overcast smoke painted skies. Perhaps it was simply the boy’s likeness to Gabe that had him seeing things. Or maybe after so long cooped up he was finally going crazy and the boy wasn’t there at all. He shook his head, amused at the thought and turned from the window, hearing the door hiss open behind him as he did so.

The brief exchange with James had anxiety shooting through him. The rundown he got from Anderson only confirmed the unease settling in his gut, but the man took Shepard’s calm words and sarcasm with his usual tact, though his tone grew sharper briefly when Shepard let lingering bitterness get away from him for a moment. They had avoided the topic of his arrest and it’s implications for the most part up until that moment, but they settled back into a comfortable back and forth as they continued into the command center.

Anderson stopped ahead and Shepard took the opportunity to ask James what he’d heard. When he turned back around at the call from a familiar voice, he barely managed to contain his shock. He made his way over to Anderson and Kaidan automatically, staring in silent surprise as they spoke until a question came unbidden from him. _Major?_

Frigid was almost the right word to describe the tension between him and Kaidan. It was like a layer of ice stretched out between them that too much pressure on either side would shatter. It tempered the warmth he felt at seeing Kaidan again, froze it in a little pocket around his heart before it could swell out of his chest. Anderson seemed oblivious to it, however, that or he simply chose to ignore it which seemed equally likely.

“I’m a bit out of the loop these days.” His tone was very matter-of-fact, but there was a pointed thought behind the words that didn’t escape Kaidan. How long had he been at the base? Was Kaidan really still so angry he couldn’t be bothered to even visit him to try to talk things over?

“Sorry, Sir. Didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop.” Shepard couldn’t place his tone or the reasons behind his over-formality, but it couldn’t be anything good. Perhaps he _was_ that angry. All the words left unsaid for nearly a year now hung so heavy between them Shepard could swear they were a tangible smog choking the air. He wanted to lash out like a wounded animal, he wanted to be indignant, he wanted to kneel at Kaidan’s feet and beg forgiveness, he wanted to kick the man for his stubbornness all at the same time. But considering the pressing circumstances he settled for a more subtle jab in a regretful tone.

“I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“Yeah, I suppose I did. Still, it’s good to see you.” Warmth blossomed in his chest at those words, threatening to melt the chill in the air. Though he was distracted trying to place Kaidan’s tone that fell somewhere between thoughtful and sincere and remorseful as they parted. Shepard admitted he may have wistfully imagined the latter inflection.

He still caught the brief exchange behind them however, and was caught off guard by James’ question. It came as a surprise to him that James seemed to have met Kaidan before, and the brief exchange hit him like a kick in the chest.

_“You know the Commander?”_

_“I used to.”_

Shepard steeled himself against the sting and put thoughts of his own problems behind him. There was no way the meeting he was about to walk into was going to be any place for distractions. It was time to don the mantle of hardened soldier and put away the feelings of a scorned friend.

The meeting was, in fact, disastrous. More so than he could have even imagined. He quickly found himself missing his reliable, if eccentric squad and Grunt’s enthusiastic love of explosions as his ears rang in the chaos that took root around them.

He and Anderson made their way across rooftops and beams, through burned out buildings and rubble. Devastation and death could be seen in any given direction. The sounds of cannon and gunfire could be heard above, along with the howls of reaper creatures, the screech of their destructive beams, the whistle of shuttles and ships flying every which way.

It was his soldiers instinct that kept his feet moving as Anderson spoke over a precarious comm link. His mind was still reeling with the suddenness of his fears falling so swiftly upon him and only years of training kept him moving, firing his borrowed pistol and using his biotics to fight.

It wasn’t until they made it into a freshly demolished building that he really became aware of the sheer weight of the pandemonium and mass destruction taking place around him. He’d tumbled off a building and nearly been incinerated by a reaper beam, but it was a simple whimper that brought him back to real awareness. A young boy, hiding in a vent. The same boy that had been playing in the courtyard at the base not a half hour ago, now cowering as everything and everyone he loved was reduced to nothing before his very eyes.

Shepard’s heart ached for him. For the chorus of breaking hearts, screams and sobbing that had to be rising up all across the world at that very moment.

He reached out a hand to the boy, promising to take him to safety. The nameless child simply responded with a cryptic and eerily stoic _“you can’t help me.”_  Shepard glanced away on instinct when Anderson called for him, and when he looked back, the boy was gone. He was half convinced the boy had never been there at all. Maybe he really was going crazy. Or maybe the boy had crawled back through the ducts, but Shepard wouldn’t fit. All he could do was make a silent promise to himself to keep an eye out for the boy as they continued through the building.

In the end he did end up seeing the boy again. He  said his goodbyes to Anderson, wishing him luck as his heart twinged with fear for him. He caught sight of the boy as the Normandy pulled up and watched the evacuation with bated breath. Fearless soldiers stood directly in the path of a reaper, undaunted, waiting without hesitation for the last civilians to make it to the evac shuttles before they took off. For a moment, it looked as if they would get away, but not a second later the reaper fired, blowing one shuttle and its occupants to nothing in the blink of an eye, followed quickly by the second. He looked away, closing his eyes at the shame and ugliness of it all.

Shepard could see it as nothing other than a dark foreshadowing. It would only get worse, even if he wasn’t there to witness it. He could picture a thousand more courageous and noble soldiers just like that dying in a hundred different ways. He could picture a million more civilians just like that, never having a chance. But he couldn’t afford to let the loss really sink in. It would only distract him from what had to be done. So he stilled his grief at the utter destruction they were quickly leaving behind and let it churn into a simmering rage in his gut. He would stop the reaper’s extermination if it was the last thing he ever did.

*******

Ok, while he loved Kaidan, and he had given up all pretense to the contrary within his own head long ago, sometimes he really wanted to throttle the man. While strictly speaking, ‘sometimes’ was really a recent development, it did cover almost every instance Kaidan had opened his mouth since about a minute after they’d arrived on Mars.

While their tense reunion at Alliance HQ hadn’t exactly filled him with hopefulness and positive thoughts about their strained relationship, the third degree interrogation he was getting was unnervingly reminiscent of their last argument. They argued back and forth all the way to the doors of the archives and through a tense elevator ride where Shepard resorted to using indignation as a weapon against an abundance of messy emotions tangled up inside him and strung out in the tense air between them.

Yet despite his frustration he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips when Liara mentioned how ‘capable’ Kaidan had become with a knowing look cast in his direction. And her sly glance at Kaidan’s back when Shepard spoke about what kept him going didn’t escape his notice either. The woman had almost always been too observant for her own good, but she had always been respectful of his silence on the matter and for that he was grateful.

Still, despite her presence, tension mounted throughout the mission and cracked under the strain when they discovered Cerberus’ latest husk experiment. And again with more pressing matters at hand the conversation was played off. The smile and banter he got from Kaidan gave him hope, and the topic left unresolved, but that was alright for the time being, it wasn’t any time for distraction. Or so he thought until the moment he almost lost his chance to fix it.

He had always considered it an overdramatized cliche that time seemed to slow when something tragic happened or was narrowly averted, but it wasn’t just a cliche when his heart stopped in his chest. From the second the mech picked Kaidan up it felt like Shepard couldn’t get any air into his lungs. Even as he shouted. Except for the absence of stars and creeping cold he could swear he had been spaced again. His limbs felt numb as he stood across the platform from the mech, numb fingers clenched around his gun, paralyzed legs tense and braced. His lungs refused to work. As if breathing could somehow make the current reality worse in some way. And his blood boiled in anger and outrage even as his mind froze in anticipatory fear.

A million thoughts raced through his mind at once when the mech finally moved, slamming Kaidan against the side of the shuttle like a limp ragdoll. Estimating how many strides it would take him to get across the platform to them, how long it would take him, guessing what the mech was made of and if he could risk taking a shot at its exposed back, whether it would stop its attack on Kaidan if he drew its attention. So many other things fought for deliberation in his mind, but it was over before he could process any of them. Kaidan’s limp, heavy form fell to the ground and Shepard fired half a dozen rounds into the approaching mech, shouting orders at James before sprinting towards the fallen form laying motionless in the middle of the platform.

He could hear Joker’s voice over the comm but it was a long moment of worrying over the barely moving man in front of him before he could make any sense of the words. He shoved the worry back, focusing on getting them out of the Reaper’s path before fixating on Kaidan’s injuries. He was breathing. And while it appeared he was losing consciousness from the slow heavy lidded blinking of his dark eyes, he was alive. That was all Shepard needed.

He picked Kaidan up. And as he slung the man over his shoulder, he flashed back to Virmire and the last time he’d had to carry Kaidan out of a fight in such a manner, the last time he’d nearly died on Shepard's watch. They’d both had their bumps and bruises over the years, but Shepard distinctly recalled the heavy stone of guilt still settling in his stomach at the time. Similar to the way it did now. He recalled the muted sloshing of water around his legs and the waves in the distance, the smells of gunfire and tank fluid still clinging to the ocean breeze. The recollection was so firmly imprinted in his mind he could almost hear the pained grunt Kaidan had let out as he picked him up, and the quiet beeping of the timer on the bomb behind them. He tightened his grip on his burden and picked up his pace towards the Normandy and what limited medical help it offered.

He carried Kaidan to the medbay as fast as he could without jostling him too much and set him gently on the bed, desperately wishing to see Chakwas’ concerned and steadfast face there to help. Only all they had was an empty room and no one with any more than field medic experience on board, the best of those now lying unconscious in front of him. The only thought Shepard had looking down at the bruised and beat up face before him was that it was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so negligent. He should have checked the damned shuttle before anything else, he should have been paying more attention to his squad.

His fog of worry was finally penetrated by Liara’s incessant voice. It seemed she had been speaking for some time but he only heard the last few words about going to the Citadel for help. And with EDI’s announcement about a transmission from Hackett he finally shook himself out of his state of worried shock and physically removed himself from the medbay. With a lingering glance at Kaidan’s marred face he donned his mask of determination and stoicism and made his way to the comm room.

By the time Kaidan was stabilized and in an actual hospital bed Shepard was nothing but tense nerves. Before he could even contemplate dealing with politics and the bloody council he made his way to the hospital. He paced back and forth in the waiting room ready to go out of his mind until he saw the familiar face of Dr. Chakwas to one side of the room. After a brief conversation with her and Dr. Michel  he made his way back to the emergency wing and into Kaidan’s room.

His frown deepened when he took in Kaidan’s bruised dirt-streaked face and still closed eyes. His gaze tracked the bruises from Kaidan’s face to his neck and shoulders and Shepard's heart ached. He clenched his fist to keep from reaching out and tracing the pale skin framing the mottled bruising around Kaidan’s eyes. He pulled the stool up to the bedside and indulged the ache in his chest by setting his hand on the bed next to Kaidan, close enough to feel the faint heat radiating from the man.

“Don’t know if you can hear me, but since you can’t tell me to get the hell out either, I’m gonna take my chances.” That was the painful truth. He wasn’t sure if Kaidan would welcome his presence if he were conscious. For many reasons, not least of which was that the man had nearly died on Shepard’s watch, which didn’t sit well with him. “Don’t die on me, K. You need to make it out of this. We...I need to make things right.” He stood with a sigh, biting back all of the things he wanted to say.

He stood by the bedside for a long moment, just listening to the quiet beeping of the heart monitor and Kaidan’s breathing, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest, still trying to convince himself Kaidan really was alright. He didn’t hold much confidence in his ability to focus over the next few weeks with the thought of Kaidan in this bed lingering in his mind. And wasn’t that just a pathetic thought. Though he knew in reality he would throw himself into his mission with everything he had, as a distraction if nothing else, that fact held no weight at the moment. The galaxy could have come to a halt around him for all he noticed or cared at the moment. As far as he was concerned, the very stars burned each day with Kaidan’s deep steady breaths. God, he was a sap. Totally gone on someone who hated his guts at the moment and trusted him about as far as he could throw him. (Without the help of his biotics anyhow).

Before he realized what he was doing, he had leaned over and placed a feather-light kiss on Kaidan’s temple. More as a consolation to himself than to Kaidan, an affirmation that he was here and alive and real. He opened his eyes with a start and pulled back slowly, half expecting to see brown eyes looking up at him even though he knew the man was sedated. He righted himself and stepped back when he heard the door open behind him.

“Don’t die on me, K. I need you. The Alliance needs you.” He turned from the bed to exchange a few brief words with the doctor that had entered and then turned to leave with one parting remark to the sleeping man. “C'mon put that stubbornness to good use and fight like I know you can.” He left before he ended up saying something he probably shouldn’t with the doctor in the room.

*******

He didn’t make it back to the hospital until after they had recovered the primarch and Garrus from Palaven. He had never been to the turian homeworld before, and it seemed the closest he would ever get to turian culture now was seeing the few sculptures Donovan Hock had in his vault. Those sculptures may be all that’s left of their culture after the war if the fires raging across Palaven were anything to go by.

Though he had been thrilled to receive a letter from Kaidan informing him he was awake and feeling better and wanted Shepard to visit, he was nervous about visiting Kaidan again. Not just because of what had happened the last time he had visited, but because he knew for once they would need to resolve their problems, and Shepard was not so confident in how that would go after Mars despite his desire to make things right.

He spent most of the afternoon running errands all over the citadel. He met with a colorful array of different people, took care of some buisness and wandered around the market for a long while before finally talking himself into sucking it up and heading to the hospital. So he made his way back to the elevator, passing Liara and Aethyta who was making disturbing insinuations about him and Liara that he would rather not have heard. He wouldn’t touch that topic with a ten foot pole.

He took the elevator up, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers against the rail to quell his nerves until the door opened. When he stepped out, however, he noticed a familiar figure by the window and smiled. He had been so single minded about his visit that the message he had received from Thane had completely slipped his mind.

He made his way over and they spoke briefly. Thane’s morbid talk made Shepard’s heart clench even though he knew the drell was just being candid and realistic with him. When Kaidan came up Shepard gave Thane a strange look for his input on the topic.

“The human biotic in intensive care. I saw the marks of an implant.”

“Yeah.”

“We have spoken. He seems an honorable sort. Your enemies may try to finish him off here. I will look out for him.” That thought hadn’t even occurred to Shepard. At that moment he was exceedingly relieved that he had Thane watching his back. Shepard scrutinized Thane as he thought about it, looking for anything that would give him some idea as to what he and Kaidan had spoken about and what was going through Thanes head.

“I appreciate it, Thane.” Thane’s expression was as impassive as usual as they sat down and the conversation changed topics. They spoke for nearly an hour and eventually he said his goodbyes and headed for Kaidan’s room.

He ran into Udina as he entered, catching the end of a conversation before making eye contact with the councilor. He and Udina exchanged barely tempered glares and terse words as he left. Shepard shook his head as the door shut behind him and approached Kaidan. Thinking back to Udina whining about Anderson punching him and being condemned to being Anderson’s errand boy for two years brightened his slightly soured mood.

He gave Kaidan the gift he’d been hanging on to since the day Kaidan had been injured and they talked about a number of things from Udina’s offer, to Kaidan’s family and his medical status. A topic which left Shepard reeling when Kaidan playfully asked if he was flirting. He wasn’t. At least not intentionally. But it was Kaidan’s reaction to his supposed flirting that had his head spinning: that genuine smile and low chuckle of his. Shepard only hoped he managed to keep an owlish dumbfounded look off his face as he scrambled to change the topic.

They then came to talking about Kaidan’s life since the last time he and Shepard had really talked. Shepard couldn’t help the part of him that felt he should have been there to see Kaidan’s promotions. And that he should have been at the memorial for those lost with the first Normandy and not wandering around the crash site years later like a ghost. Though logically he knew all of that had been out of his control, he couldn’t shake the feeling. Perhaps he’d just become too accustomed to how being larger than life and lucky as hell gave him an illusionary sense of control.

The deviation in both their lives over the last few years felt like a chasm between them. And despite the way they’d glanced over their issues at the start of the conversation, it eventually came around to what he knew it would: Horizon. They had been to hell and back together, and Shepard didn’t hold a grudge against Kaidan for things that had been said but he was unsure of where Kaidan stood. Of course he was a bit irritated with the lack of faith Kaidan showed in him, but he wasn’t even sure which of them to blame anymore for the broken trust between them.

“K,-Kaidan. Are we going to be able to get past what happened on Horizon? I know I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. And I didn’t say some things I wanted to, though I doubt they’d have made a difference.”

“Probably not, but I’d like to, Shepard. I’d like to move past the harsh words and be...friends, at least.”

“So how do we fix it?”

“I’ll admit, I own a lot of that. You were standing right in front of me and I was...I shut you down. I’m sorry.” Well, Shepard had certainly not expected that admission. Despite his esteem for Kaidan he had not expected such forthrightness, especially after his interrogation on Mars. Shepard was, for a moment, speechless.

“I understand why, Kaidan, believe me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

“Do you, Shepard? Because it isn’t every day someone comes back from the dead. I watched you die! I mourned you. Hell, I gave the eulogy at your funeral. Then you just show up with Cerberus like nothing happened. Don’t even bother to contact me? Did our friendship mean anything to you? I-” Kaidan’s serious tone got quieter as he stopped himself and Shepard continued watching him, his face expressionless. “I’m doing it again. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. He could hear his own voice in his head, the resonance of it in an empty room as he recorded his message for Kaidan before the mission the the collector base. An image of Kaidan standing somberly before a crowd fixed itself in his mind. It soon became a slideshow of memories evoked by Kaidan’s words. Kaidan standing in that empty field on Horizon shouting, sitting next to him in a silent room, laughing with friends, that look he got when he displayed his dry wit, the way he bit his lip when he was focused on something, the way that new cocky smirk of his made his eyes shine. He had suspected Kaidan’s anger stemmed in some part from any lingering feelings he had over Shepard’s death, but he had written that off as a pipe dream after Mars. It was oddly comforting to be proven correct after so long.

“Okay, so let’s just put it behind us and get on with what’s important right now.”

“Bury it?”

“Bury it. Forgive it...I think that’s how we get past Horizon.” Shepard cracked a small smile at his flat and serious tone, but sobered up by the time Kaidan had finished speaking. It was unfathomable to him that Kaidan thought he could hold a grudge. He was certainly  regretful over the way things had gone down, and he was often frustrated by Kaidan’s stubbornness, but that was also one of the things he loved about the man. So he just smiled and Kaidan smiled back and after a moment frowned in that puzzled way he did when he had a question. Shepard’s smile grew wider knowing that even if Kaidan did seem more confident now, he was still the same when it came to that inquisitive nature he tried so valiantly to hide.

“I gotta know though...what the hell were you shouting at me? I mean I gathered that you were frustrated, but I didn’t have my translator on at the time.” Shepard rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I wasn’t shouting. And I’m not sure I even remember.” He glanced at Kaidan who looked unconvinced.

“You were shouting. And you know if you don’t tell me I’m always going to assume it was something really awful, right?”

“Alright, alright,” he conceded with a placating hand, thinking back on the conversation in question. He never could say no to Kaidan. “I think I told you that you were acting like a child. I think the rest of it was slightly more intelligible but I’d rather not rehash that bit.”

“I suppose I was being a bit stubborn.”

“I think there have been more cooperative mules and softer headed krogan if that’s any indicator,” Kaidan gave him a playful glare and Shepard smiled. It was nice to have their banter back and no longer weighed down by unresolved tension.

They lapsed into a silence and Shepard found his gaze wandering from the fading mottled bruises on Kaidan’s face to the mostly healed ones on his neck and shoulders. Once he’d assessed the state of Kaidan’s injuries however, he suddenly became very aware of how much of Kaidan's naked skin was exposed. His gaze continued on to trail over the bared planes of Kaidan’s chest and defined abs. Though he was still aware of Kaidan’s injured state, he was no longer preoccupied with serious talk or worried for the man’s life.

A less conscionable part of his mind took over as he stared and the temperature in the room seemed to rise considerably. The part of his mind that had on his earlier visit wanted nothing more than to pull Kaidan’s battered form into his arms and hold him was now consumed with more lascivious notions of just what he would do if he had the other man in his arms at the moment. It was not an unfamiliar pattern of thought but it was really not something he needed to be thinking about with Kaidan only inches away. Or at all for that matter, but it didn't seem to be something he had any control over.

Nope, he most certainly did not need to be fixating on that or Kaidan’s flirting or any of his other fanciful notions, fantasies, dreams, daydreams or wet dreams about the man. With that firm reminder he said his goodbyes to Kaidan who had thankfully been gazing out the window during his little episode. It was probably about time for him to steal an hour of alone time to release some of his one sided sexual tension. 

Kaidan watched him like a hawk as he said his goodbyes. He felt eyes boring into his back as he turned to leave, trying not to look guilty. He wasn't sure exactly why he even felt that way. It seemed to be a natural reaction to that sharp glint in Kaidan's eyes when he looked through him like a pane of glass. It unnerved him as much as it turned him on. Fuck, he was so screwed. And not in a good way. Maybe he'd forgo that second visit before they left the station, he thought as the doors closed behind him, shielding him from that too-observant gaze.


	5. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! I really have no excuse for not getting this posted sooner except to say that I am a self-critical perfectionist and I fought with this chapter forever. I reread it at least 20 times (which is sadly not an exaggeration) and fought with the dialogue. I finally just gave up and went with it, so I hope it doesn't seem too OOC. The next chapter is done, I just need to make some (hopefully less intensive) revisions to it. The song snippet is from Change of Time by Josh Ritter, because this chapter is all over the place and because I had a better song, but forgot it, and also because Josh Ritter is never a bad Idea.

**I had a dream last night**  
**And rusting far below me**  
**Battered hulls and broken hardships**  
**Leviathan and Lonely**  
**I was thirsty so I drank**  
**And though it was salt water**  
**There was something ‘bout the way**  
**It tasted so familiar**  
  
**Time, love**  
**Time, love**  
**Time, love**  
**It’s only a change of time**  
  
**The black clouds I’m hanging**  
**This anchor I’m dragging**  
**The sails of memory rip open in silence**  
**We cut through the lowlands**  
**All hands through the saltlands**  
**The white caps of memory**  
**Confusing and violent**  
  
**I had a dream last night**  
**And when I opened my eyes**  
**Your shoulder blade, your spine**  
**Were shorelines in the moon light**  
**New worlds for the weary**  
**New lands for the living**  
**I could make it if I tried**  
**I closed my eyes I kept on swimming**

“Oh, Kaidan, there you are. I wondered where you went. What’s up?” The words were more tired than he’d intended. Though the question was genuine, it was strained through the aching hurt that had been bearing down on him since he’d left the hospital. His right hand was wrapped so tightly around the crystal in his pocket he could feel the point digging into his palm drawing blood. The pain had kept him grounded as he’d walked through the presidium trying to clear his head, but after a while the intermittent noise and suffocating silence were driving him mad and he just needed some peace.

He needed to be somewhere quiet. Far from the bustle of the presidium and the constant noise and all the troubles of the galaxy, even Kaidan, for the moment, but he knew they needed to have this talk.

“I’m trying to wrap my head around what just happened.”

“You sound angry,” he noted with a frown. He really didn’t need Kaidan mad at him right now. He hadn’t liked pointing their guns at each other any more than Kaidan had, but he was too exhausted both physically and emotionally to deal with another argument right now.

“No, I’m just not used to pointing a gun at someone I’ve worked with so closely. How that all went down’s got me...I don’t know.”

“Talk to me, K. Let’s have it.”

“If I hadn’t backed down first, I feel like you would’ve taken me out.” Shepard stared at him for a long horrified moment of stupefied disbelief, his expression carefully controlled. He would have let Kaidan shoot him without a second thought if it had come to that. There weren’t words for the unspeakably awful things he would endure rather than hurt Kaidan. And he’d been tortured by batarian slavers for nearly a month, he knew a thing or two about pain.

“Never. _Never._ I trusted you. I knew you’d come around. The important thing is we stopped the coup and Cerberus is off the Citadel.” He was hoping that would be then end of it when Kaidan paced back towards the window, but that was wishful thinking.

“But sometimes the way a thing goes down does matter, Shepard. Later, when you have to live with yourself. Knowing that you acted with integrity- then it matters.” Kaidan was looking out the window now and Shepard rubbed his eyes with a calloused hand and sighed quietly. Udina. He should have expected that would bother Kaidan, but he didn’t regret it. Especially considering what had happened with Kai Lang. Perhaps that made him a bad person, but he couldn’t be bothered to give a shit.

Shepard had never liked Udina, and the man had never sought to prove his opinion wrong. In fact, he’d only made Shepard hate him more over the years.

“He gave me no choice so I took the shot. Gun drawn on an unarmed civilian, a councilor at that. Any soldier would have done the same, including you.”

“Okay. You’re right. There’s another reason I’m here, though. Hackett offered me a position, but I’d turn it down in a second if there was a chance to join you on the Normandy again.”

“I couldn’t imagine finishing this thing without you, Kaidan.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Kaidan offered his hand and Shepard shook it, a weak and somewhat forced smile on his face as his heart leaped with happiness despite the ache it was still feeling keenly. Any other time and he imagined he would be grinning at the hopeful, relieved twinkle in Kaidan’s eyes, hugging him and encouraging more conversation, but he just didn’t have it in him to feel with any real conviction at the moment. “And Shepard,” Kaidan added in a sincere tone as he met his eyes. “I need you to know that I’ll never doubt you again. I’ve got your back.”

The promise surprised him. Not that he thought Kaidan wouldn’t keep it. On the contrary, Kaidan was one of the most honest people he knew. Probably _the_ most honest considering he was more forward about speaking his mind these days and Thane was… His heart twinged painfully and he closed his eyes and refocused himself.

He just couldn’t see doubt as something Kaidan really had control over. The actions and words stemming from doubt, sure, but Shepard thought it would take some time before he could really believe it. Still, Kaidan was breaking his own rule to always leave himself a way out and Shepard’s heart swelled at the thought.

“Good to know. Welcome aboard, Major.” Kaidan saluted him and he wanted to smile but he managed only a weak expression that came out as more of a grimace. “I’d say get your gear, but I don’t suppose you have much aside from what’s already on the Normandy.” Kaidan shook his head and Shepard responded with an awkward nod before making his way past him through the last door and back to the ship.

He stopped to inform Joker of their next mission and destination and their new passenger, which the pilot seemed to have mixed feelings about. He stopped Shepard as he turned to leave.

“Hey, Shepard” he called. “I heard Thane was injured. How is he?” Joker’s voice wavered on the question, as if he already knew the answer but didn’t want to admit it.

“Dead,” he replied quietly without turning around. They shared a moment of silence that passed mournfully before Shepard continued on his way out, gruffly ordering Joker to leave once everyone was back on board. He thought he heard Joker mutter a choked curse as he ducked out of the cockpit

He slipped through the CIC silently, stopping only once he was in the elevator. He stared at the panel for a long pensive moment before hitting the button for the crew deck. The ride down seemed to take an eternity as he tried to focus on anything but his grief. To his surprise he felt the inertial dampeners kick in when he finally stepped out of the elevator and the ship began to move as he made his way down the hall. By the time the observation room’s doors had closed behind him the docking clamps had been released and the wards were flying by the window at increasing speeds. He must have been walking around a lot longer than he’d thought if he was the last one onboard.

He let out a sigh as he sat down on one of the couches nearest the window. It was nice to have his sanctuary back. Sure, his cabin was nice, but for years he’d found himself wandering to the observation deck of any ship or station he’d served on to clear his head. Like now, most were usually empty. This was where he had always found peace: drifting among the stars. Ironic now, he supposed, all things considered, but it still brought him comfort. And though he’d enjoyed his long talks with Samara when she had claimed it for her own, he was relieved to have it to himself under current circumstances.

He pulled the blue-green crystal from his pocket as he withdrew his hands and rested one arm across the back of the couch. He stared at the stone in his other hand, swiping a thumb across its smooth surface as he held it up to catch the starlight. It was an idle thing Bakara had given him, that held such a significant message, one he liked to keep with him. Looking at it though, he couldn’t help but feel that despite the trials of the past week the darkest hour had yet to come. He dismissed the sense of dread that notion instilled in him as an unsoldierly distraction.

He had smiled when Bakara had given it to him, thinking of how fitting a symbol it was for such a dark time. Now it mostly reminded him of Mordin and the krogan and, in a way, that was fitting too. He could almost hear Mordin’s voice when he looked at it. Singing in a cheery voice. It now echoed alongside Thane’s steady tone as he prayed.

Shepard had heard him pray many times. But the last prayer he’d said would haunt Shepard forever. _“...Kalahira, wash the sins from this one, and set him on the distant shore of the infinite spirit. Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention. Guide this one to where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve. Guide this one, Kalahira, and he will be a companion to you as he was to me.”_

He had wished the same for Thane, not knowing at the time that his friend’s last words were intended for him. Shepard had almost lost his composure then, his last exchange with Thane being a look from the drell that said: _“and not all shores are islands.”_ Kolyat was stoic next to him the whole time. Shepard wondered if all drell were as collected and serious as Kolyat and Thane or if it was just a family trait. He’d meant to ask Thane at one point, but it had slipped his mind.

It was with the foreign sting of moisture in his eyes that a realization struck him: he had not really cried in many years. A stray tear here and there in the last few years, but he hadn’t allowed grief to consume him in the form of red eyes and shaking hands and harsh sobs. He hadn’t cried when Ash died, or for Mordin. He’d just remained in the same numb shock until the feeling faded. After Akuze he had been too drunk and in too much pain to lend himself to tears, if that even made sense. He felt a similar pain now and still he couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t explain why the tears refused to fall.

His omni-tool chirped then and he cursed himself for not turning it off. He hastily blinked back the moisture in his eyes before answering the video call. It came as no small surprise to see none other than Kolyat on the other end of the call.

“Commander. I apologize if I am interrupting something. I know you are a busy man.” Shepard shook his head but didn’t say anything as Kolyat continued. “I didn’t have a chance to say this before, but I wanted to thank you. I am grateful for what you did for me and my father. I am glad we had the chance to resolve our issues.” Shepard managed a smile at that. Kolyat sounded a bit different. Like he had possibly been crying. Or perhaps it was the ease with which he’d lapsed into using past tense that sounded so strange. Loss hung like a cloud around him. Shepard could see it in his eyes. While not as acute as it could have been had things between him and his father been better throughout his life, it was a notable change from the composure he had displayed earlier.

“I am too. He meant what he said that day. He loved you Kolyat. Even if he wasn’t always good at showing it.” He tripped over the words, not used to referring to Thane with biting words of finality like _loved_ and _was._

“I know, Commander. I was full of anger when we met. Your intervention has brought me some measure of peace.”

“I’m glad.” There was a long pause and it seemed like their brief conversation was coming to a close. “Kolyat?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” He met Kolyat’s eyes on the screen to convey the seriousness and sincerity behind the statement and Kolyat nodded.

“Goodbye Commander.”

“Take care Kolyat. Stay safe.”

The call ended and Shepard closed the screen of his omni-tool. He debated for a moment the pros and cons of shutting it off before finally doing so. If there was an emergency they could reach him on the comm. With that, he put the crystal and omni-tool back in his pockets.

He leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes as he threw his arms over the back of the couch, just listening to the silence, letting it wash over him like a calming rain. He could do with a calm rain at the moment. Some time away from the internal landscape of his troubling and desolate thoughts. He could just barely recall the last warm summer rain he’d just sat in for hours until he was drenched and contented to think about nothing but the feel of the water on his skin and the beautiful rolling grey of the clouds and the lightning in the distance.

But maybe he’d try somewhere sunny once the war was over. If he was still standing. Maybe he’d go back to Aite. They had seen nothing but unspoiled natural beauty in every direction in the short time they’d been there. Not even the sour memories of what happened to David there could diminish that. He could see himself living out his life there after the war. A modest house in the wilderness, maybe on a cliff overlooking waterfalls and green valleys. Maybe near a beach. He could start collecting seashells on Mordin’s behalf. Maybe run tests on them. If he could ever for the life of him establish just what sort of tests one ran on seashells.

Ah, but that was a pipe dream. The odds of them winning this war were getting better, but they were still uncertain. Even if they did and he survived he knew he could never settle down into retirement after the life he’d led. That was a notion he could have contented himself with once upon a time, but that time was long gone.

He honestly didn’t know what he would do if he saw the other side of this mess. There would probably be a lot of rebuilding to do, but he was a soldier, not an architect or a doctor or a carpenter. He didn’t have any family to take care of aside from his self appointed task of keeping tabs on those he felt responsible for.

All he knew was strife. Likely, he’d just keep on keeping on and chasing reasons for doing so, maybe find a niche where he could be useful. It was strange to recall a time in his life when the notion of being a soldier was fanciful and somewhat romanticized. When it was just one possibility among many in a promising future. He’d wanted to see aliens and space, to protect the innocent and defend noble ideals, same as his brother. He’d never wanted to see war, slaughter, his friend’s deaths. But youth was naive and idealistic. Now he was all too well acquainted with harsh realities. Now he understood the dichotomy between the kindly old lady and the bitter old man. There were those to whom life was kind, and those from whom it took everything.

Life had taken everything important to him time and again. It hadn’t broken him just yet, but it was only a matter of time. He still had friends here and there. Though it was hard to know how many of them would still be around in a few months time. Hell, weeks, days maybe. He wasn’t even in contact with most of them anymore. Maybe they were already dead. He really did just set himself up for tragedy any time he got attached to anyone.

Of course he’d known Thane was sick when they’d met, and he’d half expected them all to die on that mission anyway. So he’d never thought about it too much until recently. He was almost sure Thane prefered things to end this way. Dying for a worthwhile goal rather than slowly and in pain, but that didn’t really make the loss hurt any less. And Mordin... grief welled in him and he hung his head. He didn’t deserve to die like that. Damn Wrex and his impatience.

Mordin had never admitted his real reasons for doing what he did, maybe not even to himself, but Shepard knew. He had known since the day they had gone to look for Melon. Any doubts he’d had that he was right were crushed by Mordin’s willingness to die to set it right. He knew it was the grief talking, but he partly blamed Wrex for his impatience and the necessity of using the shroud. He blamed himself for not pistol whipping the scientist and hauling him out of the crumbling building. Most of all, he blamed the reapers and their damned war for every awful thing that had occurred in the last few weeks.

He let anger fester at the thought. It was his only weapon and only defense against letting loss burden him. He steeled his hurt into determination, pounding it with sheer force of will as if tempering a blade which he sharpened with anger. He didn’t have time for mourning or self pity. He was Commander Shepard: savior of the citadel, first human spectre, an honorary krogan, a screwed up little farm boy, a soldier, a friend, and a myriad of other things, but he would _not_ be weak. He would not be distracted by his grief when the entirety of the galaxy needed him.

He stared out the window a while longer. He let his mind wander to less upsetting and more mundane things. He likely had a number of messages to sift through, and there was probably a report to write about something or other if anyone even still read those anymore. Or he could always find someone to bother for a few hours, or something to do or fix or fiddle with down in the cargo bay. (Not the shuttle, though. Never the shuttle. Cortez hated that as much as Garrus hated anyone touching anything he had recently calibrated. Though the pilot tended to be more subtle about it than threatening to overload his omni-tool and kicking him out of the cargo bay.)

As if Shepard’s thoughts of distraction had summoned him, the doors opened at that moment to admit Kaidan. The other biotic made his way down the aisle between the couches. He didn’t notice Shepard until he was halfway down the aisle and their gazes met in the reflection of the window.

“Hey, Shepard.”

“Hey.” Neither of them said anything else as Kaidan continued toward the window. He came to a stop and leaned against it looking out and they shared a very long silence that seemed poised on the the edge of something. Kaidan stared out into space and Shepard found himself studying the tense lines of his almost imperceptibly stiff shoulders and tensed muscles. Shepard would never have noticed the difference if he hadn’t spent so much time watching and studying the man over course of their time serving together. He could tell something was bothering the man, but it was several silent minutes before Kaidan spoke again.

“It all seems so calm from here. There are people goin’ through hell in a million different ways...out there. And I want to be fighting alongside them...but I want to be here. You know?”

“Sure.” He understood what Kaidan meant, but he wasn’t sure what he meant _by_ it. He stood and walked to the window, leaning against it facing Kaidan with a look that was both concerned and inquisitive. “Thinking about anyone specific?”

“I heard from my mom. My dad is MIA. He’s presumed…”

“Tell me what happened. You said they made it out of Vancouver.”

“He left mom at the orchard and reported for active duty. It’s all we know, but it’s...uh, it’s enough. She’s alone in this now. In all...this.”

“I feel for you, K. I’m sorry. And I’m glad you told me. There’s strength in camaraderie, empathy.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how you do it, Shepard. Keeping it all together like you do. Earth is always in the back of my mind, haunting me.” He didn’t think it’d be a good idea to tell Kaidan the truth just then. That he didn’t have it together. That he’d never had it together. He’d gotten damn good at trying over the years though, and somehow that had been enough. Hell, maybe that _was_ having it together, having the stubbornness to push forward through all the shit life threw at you. But whatever it was, it would be enough to see him though this damned war.

“Yeah, I get that, but I think about what would happen if we didn’t have it in us to keep going. What you said about the future flashing before you on Mars, that’s why we have to keep it together.

“Steve is still struggling. James is often frighteningly reminiscent of myself about a decade ago. Garrus won’t speak to anyone for hours after he’s gotten a report from Palaven and Liara’s already despairing over her lifespan. It adds up. I know it’s rough, but I’m always here if you need me.”

“And you, Shepard?”

“What about me?”

“I know how you are, Shepard. You’re always looking out for everybody but yourself.” Shepard snorted. He couldn’t tell whether he was attracted to certain people because they saw through his shit, or if he let his guard down enough to let them see through him because he was attracted to them. Either way, Kaidan sounded like Ryan just then. Though he was a bit less direct in the way he approached things, and his tone was softer.

“You know, I’ve heard that before. I like to think I’ve improved at least a little bit over the last decade or so.”

“I’m serious, Shepard. Today, earlier and now, you look just like you did the day…” He trailed off and got that familiar furrow between his brows as he scrutinized Shepard. After a moment he simply frowned and Shepard turned to look out the window. He crossed his arms over his chest and spoke softly.

“I’ve lost a few friends this week, but there will be plenty of time for mourning once this is all over.”

“No one I know, I take it?”

“Just a few old friends trying to make amends. Thane mentioned he had spoken to you. I don’t know if you’d remember him.”

“The drell at the hospital. Yeah, I remember him. We spoke quite a few times actually. He filled me in on some of your exploits together and I told him about some of our adventures hunting down Saren. He was a nice guy.”

Shepard glanced at Kaidan under his lashes trying to determine if that was all they had talked about. He and Thane had shared a unique bond, one of kindred spirits. He had told Thane some things he had never thought he would tell anyone. And he had wondered if Thane had guessed what Kaidan meant to him in the many times they’d greeted each other in passing when he’d visited the hospital.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “He was a good friend, a good man. He looked out for you while you were still unconscious, and after. He promised to keep an eye out for trouble while you were injured.” Shepard was grateful at that moment that he hadn’t given into the temptation to really look at Kaidan as he spoke. He stared out into space as the fond smile slipped from his face.

Kaidan nodded and said nothing further on the matter. A single look conveyed his condolences in a way words could not. Shepard said nothing further either and Kaidan allowed him his silence as they both stared out into the dark void sprinkled with twinkling stars. Time stretched out into the vastness of space and they may have stood there for an eternity before Kaidan finally spoke again.

“This reminds me of that night on the SR-1.” Kaidan’s voice was almost a whisper, but Shepard heard him clearly in the silence and knew exactly what he meant.

“Maybe we need to work on making some happier memories in here.” Shepard hadn’t intended that to sound so ambiguous but his mind, evidently tired of his morose thoughts, immediately supplied a number of creative ideas about just how they could do that. He huffed under his breath and shifted his stance uncomfortably. “I just mean, we should ah, lighten things up occasionally. Like we used to.”

“Yeah. We don’t seem to be too good at it. Maybe we should take lessons from Joker and Garrus.”

“Yeah, maybe. Not today though. We can have today.”

“Yeah.” Shepard threw an arm around Kaidan’s shoulder on an impulse and pulled him into a friendly side hug. At least he hoped it seemed friendly. He tried to keep it that way as he fought not to kiss that spot on Kaidan’s temple in a comforting affectionate manner. He really needed to take stock of his rampant thoughts and impulses around Kaidan before it became a problem. He released the other sentinel after a moment and finally turned from the window.

“You may want to think about getting some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

“Alright, Shepard. Goodnight.”

“Sleep tight Kaidan.” He made his way out of the dark room hoping Kaidan managed to get enough sleep for the both of them. He didn’t even have the will to try tonight. He was going to sift through messages and write and read reports and make plans until morning came and hope the following days and weeks brought with them more restful sleep.

Kaidan watched the door close behind him before turning back to the window. Unsurprisingly, his thoughts now lingered on Shepard. He wished he could convince himself it was because he no longer wanted to think about any of the other crises he could be contemplating at the moment, but he knew full well he’d just be fooling himself.

He spent a lot of time thinking about Shepard lately. There was only so much to do being laid up in the hospital for weeks, after all. It had given him plenty of time to think about a great many things.

He worried about the man. He hadn’t quite caught up on reports of what he’d missed the past weeks, and Shepard had been sparing with details in the few messages he’d managed to send, but from the look in Shepard’s eyes, it had been a rough few weeks.

He wondered why he’d never noticed before, the way Shepard seemed to be more open with him than anyone else. Sure he was still the same old Shepard, constantly taking care of everyone else and consoling them, putting himself last, but he let his walls down around Kaidan. Maybe not completely- Kaidan doubted Shepard was even capable of that. He was less guarded when they were alone though; his bravado was a little less polished.

It was comforting to know that despite their past issues, that aspect of their relationship hadn’t changed. It had taken some effort, but he felt like they were back on common ground. He wasn’t sure where that left him, however.

His thoughts wandered back to two years prior. When he’d stood in front of a large crowd of people, many human, but not all. Soldiers in their dress blues with sombre expressions saluting a token coffin, familiar and unfamiliar faces, some streaked with silent tears. A number of turians Kaidan had been surprised to find Shepard had served with for several months some years back attended. People whose lives Shepard had touched, had changed, if only for a brief moment. He remembered reading the eulogy he’d written with a shaky hand in a voice that sounded far more composed than he’d felt. Because he wasn’t composed at all, but he couldn’t afford to give in to the turmoil inside of him. He wasn’t ready to let it go just then.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten out of the escape pod, safely aboard an Alliance science vessel that he’d known for sure Shepard was dead. It had hit him hard, sure. They had been friends. The closest friend Kaidan had had in a long time even, but it tore at him in ways he hadn’t expected, muddled his feelings and twisted his insides until he simply acknowledged that maybe there had been something more there. As strange as the notion had been at first thought, maybe he’d wanted more.

He’d thought on it a great deal, realizing that while a great number of people idolized Shepard and all were a little bit in love with the Commander, he was unquestionably drawn to the man himself. Not just the impeccable commanding officer, but the many faceted man underneath who was both exceptionally kind and a little reckless because of all that he had seen and experienced. He saw far more than Shepard probably wanted anyone to, but for being such a blunt and honest person, Shepard was an enigma that fascinated him and drew him in like no one ever had. He’d wanted to know so many things, and to be able to comfort Shepard when he got that haunted look in his eye. But Shepard was gone, and he learned to let the feeling go.

And then suddenly, he was there again. So much time later, so far away, so different from who they’d been. Or so he’d thought. It was easier to feel resentment and betrayal than to face the roiling mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions that had surged within him when he saw Shepard, but he’d accepted the truth now.

Coming back to the Normandy, he’d placed himself in Shepard’s hands once more and he needed to acknowledge that that feeling was still there. That desire for something more that was no longer a belated regret, but a prospect, a hope, a potential he needed to face.

*******

_He was having the same fantasy he’d had a thousand times before. He had fantasized about having Kaidan in front of him like this, wanting him. About kissing him breathless and senseless until neither of them could form a coherent thought. And he has fantasized about ravishing him. About winding Kaidan up with teasing touches and kisses, flicks of his tongue  and whispered words in gravelly tones until that impressive control of his finally snapped and he took what he wanted. What, in Shepard’s fantasies, they both wanted._

_At last Shepard had him pressed against the wall. One hand tangled in Kaidan’s dark hair while the other rested on the man’s hip, his thumb tracing patterns on the exposed skin of Kaidan’s lower abdomen. He had just leaned in to kiss Kaidan when something caught the corner of his eye. He turned his head instinctively, and suddenly they weren’t in his cabin anymore._ He _wasn’t in his cabin anymore, and the space where Kaidan had been was empty. The man had vanished along with their surroundings like smoke, the scent of which hung heavy in the air Shepard was now left clutching._

_He immediately recognized where he was as he lowered his arms and took in his surroundings despite the distracting ache of loss. He stood at the edge of a once grassy field. A forest spread out before him. Ash fell from the dark sky like so many delicate snowflakes, though he saw no flames in the fields beyond. Fog clung to the air in all directions, a silent blanket over a sombre and familiar scene.A layer of ash covered the ground and the brittle noise of scorched grass reached his ears as he shifted his booted feet._

_His brow furrowed as he took in the rest of his attire, a mishmashed combination of his old off-duty boots and cargo pants, paired with one of the sleeveless grease stained shirts he’d been fond of as a kid. Dark hair that was several inches long fell across his brow as he looked himself over and he pushed it back unconsciously._

_His hazy puzzlement was interrupted along with the silence by a familiar scream from the dark forest and he instinctively took off in its direction. His heart pounded in his chest, matching pace with his feet as they moved faster than he thought possible. Phantom pains ghosted through his body around various scars and abruptly the screaming stopped. The sound echoed through the silent trees, reverberating as the scar on his head throbbed. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure which direction the sound had been coming from._

_He stood amongst the trees, shadowy apparitions passing here and there along the edges of his vision, but when he looked directly at them they disappeared. It all seemed familiar, like this was something that had happened before and faded from memory. He remembered these woods though. He’d spent many hours playing in them as a child, many hours venturing off beaten paths and exploring its uncharted depths._

_One figure stood out among the fleeting shadows. However, it was still gone when he turned to look directly at it, but he could swear he caught a flash of fiery hair and got the lingering impression of accompanying emerald eyes._

_“You listen to me, Markus. You keep them safe, you get them out of here and don’t you dare look back.” The stern and hurried words were laced with a tinge of fear he had never noticed before and they echoed around him so faintly he couldn’t be sure he’d actually heard them at all._

_He was, however, certain he heard the familiar shriek of terror once more, but he couldn’t tell which direction it came from. He turned in circles fruitlessly until a shot rang out and the forest was quiet once more. His heart beat an erratic rhythm in his chest and his breath came in quick bursts until a figure in the distance caught his eye and remained where it was as he fixed his gaze upon it._

_He sprinted forward once more. Only this time his legs refused to cooperate and he felt as if he were running through waist deep water. Voices continued to whisper at him as he made his way slowly forward. Though he recognized the voices, he still wasn’t sure they were any more than the wind whispering through the still woods._

_“Just don’t make the mistake I did. There’s always another mission. None of them are an excuse to make yourself an island.”_

_“Someone else might’ve gotten it wrong.”_

_“Screw that, go back and get Alenko. You know it’s the right choice LT.”_

_“It’s too late for me.”_

_“Victory...at any cost.”_

_As he neared the crouched figure recognition set in and he slowed. The small figure stood from his crouch, toy ship in his hand as he stared at Shepard wide-eyed. As Shepard got closer the boy ran off, fading into the dark landscape with a familiar laugh that did not belong to him, but to the face that had haunted stark memories for so many years that the boy so reminded him of. Muddybootsbigsmilebrighteyes, his mind whispered._

_As he took off after the boy, the older voices came, voices that tinged painful memories in years past. Things that reflected a person he no longer was. The voices were interspersed with his name now, whispered in tones of those long and more recently dead. He fought not to cover his ears as the words pierced his heart in fierce succession like the needle of a tattoo gun leaving agonizing sorrow behind that stayed with him as surely as any ink._

_“We’ve all got our vices, Mark. We’ve all got our regrets, pain, memories. Some people’s lives are more bad than good, and that’s fact.”_

_“You need to be careful, sweetheart. I don’t want them hauling you off to that school.”_

_“Mark…”_

_“I’ll miss you, little brother. Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”_ _..._ I’ll try.

_“Markus!”_

_“I know you wanted to join your brother in the Alliance, Mark. But after what happened...Just promise me you’ll think about it some more?”_

_“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, Abby, it was an accident.”_

_“Mark, where do you think stars land when they fall?”_ _..._ I don’t know, Spatzchen.

_“Hey, lover boy.”_

_“Shepard…”_

_“Maaark!” The scream trailed off for the third time as he reached the boy, once again crouched in the dirt, covering his head this time as the sound of a reaper ship echoed through the clearing. He tentatively neared the boy and crouched down, offering a hand as he had before. The boy simply looked at him the same as he had before. Those bold haunted eyes stared at him sadly as flames engulfed his small frame._

_Shepard reached forward but in a flash both the boy and the flames were gone, faded into wisps of smoke that lingered in the fog. He crouched in the dirt grasping at thin air, his breaths trailing wakes through the cold mist. He fell back to sit on the hard ash covered ground and stared out into the forest._

_The shadowed figures no longer danced at the edge of his vision, the whispers and haunting voices were silent. Everything was silent. He was alone. But then he was always alone. He always had been. He trailed bare fingers through the ash between his feet, picking it up and running it between calloused fingers until the soot stained them black._

_“Shepard, you’re not alone. You know that.”_

_Shepard looked up at the familiar voice, much clearer than the whispers had been. Kaidan stood in front of him holding out a hand to help him to his feet. Behind him stood several familiar faces, his teams from the SR-2 and the SR-1, Anderson, Chakwas, Cortez and Traynor. Shepard reached for the seemingly tangible hand only to have his fingers pass through it like smoke._

_One by one the familiar faces faded from focus as if he were seeing them through foggy glass. He rubbed at his eyes to no avail and when he looked up once more they were engulfed in the same silent flame the boy had been. Flames that signified so much destruction in his eyes, on Mindoir, on Virmire, Earth, Palaven, Eden Prime and a myriad of other dreadful incidents._

_One by one the flames engulfed them like welcoming arms and not one of them made a sound or moved. They simply fixed Shepard with their customary expressions, from comforting smiles to disinterested stares and playful smirks. Shepard couldn’t move. He couldn’t watch it either and he shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them only Kaidan still stood in front of him. The others lay scattered around the clearing motionless; lifeless. Kaidan’s hand was at his side once more and he looked down at Shepard somberly, a hauntingly sad expression in the depths of his whisky eyes._

_“You aren’t alone, Shepard. But you will be before the end. You always are. I thought you’d accepted that. It’s just a vicious cycle. It’s fate. Some things can’t be atoned for.”_

_“I know that, but I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. I’m still trying.”_

_“God stopped caring a long time ago, Markus. You deserve to be alone. You’re a coward to think death could ever absolve you of your sins. You’re afraid to live, to be alone again. You’re afraid of yourself. You were a coward then, and you’re a coward now.” The vicious words spoken in Kaidan’s normally soft voice made his stomach twist into knots in his gut. With a cold empty look Kaidan turned his back and walked away, his silent footsteps leaving footprints in the ash._

_“Wait!” The plea went unheeded. Flames wrapped around Kaidan’s legs like vines as he walked. Shepard screamed his name as his heart broke and the bits of his shattered soul fell to the ground like the ash around him._

He jerked awake violently, one arm thrashing out to knock the lamp from the small desk he had fallen asleep at. This further startled him into full alertness and he jerked back in his chair. The hand that had pillowed his head went to the pistol at his hip while the other scrambled for purchase as he tipped back in his chair. In less than a few seconds he, the chair, the lamp, and half a dozen datapads had clattered to the floor between his bed and couch with a loud crash while what was left of his coffee from the night before emptied itself over the front of his shirt as the steel mug hit the floor next to him with a clang.

“Ow, fuck,” he groaned as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head where it had connected harshly with the floor.

He got up slowly, noting the way various aches and pains accumulated from falling asleep at his desk and becoming intimately acquainted with the floor combined with lingering aches from the mission the day before. He set the chair upright before looking down at the rest of the mess he’d managed to make and grimacing. He looked down at himself and pulled the wet fabric of his undershirt away from his stomach with a sigh. It wasn’t the first time he’d awoken with a start, but it was certainly one of the more notably destructive instances.

He pulled the now stained garment off and threw it across the room to land near his closet. He made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up and put a dry shirt on before setting to work cleaning up the mess. Though the dream that had woken him was fading, he could still recall the most haunting parts of it: the voices, the faces, the words spoken and whispered that clung to the back of his psyche in waking hours. He could recall Kaidan’s face pulled into a venomous sneer and the image made his skin crawl.

He shivered and shook the recollection off as he set several of the datapads back on the desk. He was distracted from recovering the rest of them from the floor when the book at the edge of his desk caught his eye. Thankfully it had escaped the disaster where it sat opposite where the lamp had been as it had been and out of range of his violent thrashing. He leaned forward and fingered the bookmark on the page he had reread nostalgically the night before. He flipped the book open with a finger and smile down at the poem’s title fondly. _The Sad Shepard._

_“There was a man whom Sorrow named his friend,”_ he read the first line with a faint smile and a shake of his head at the irony. He recalled that poem, and _The Song Of The Happy Shepard_ on the page before it fondly. He faintly remembered noting their family name when his mother read them to him as a child. He was very young at the time and thus his memory was vague, but he remembered her smile and the words she spoke on that occasion as she tapped his nose. _“Yes, and you should always strive to be the happy one.”_

His reverie was interrupted by a chime at the door and he responded without thinking as he closed the book. “Enter.” He scrambled to put the mess at his feet into a more orderly state as he heard the door hiss open.

“Redecorating again, Shepard?” Garrus looked at him with an amused twinkle in his eye as Shepard turned towards him. He looked from the datapads he held in one hand and the now empty mug he held in the other to the spilled coffee, and dented lamp at his feet.

“You could say that. I think that between the sharp metal and the puddle it makes a fine trap for the wayward intruder.” Garrus chuckled.

“At least we didn’t need any emergency barriers this time.” Shepard threw his hands up in mock exasperation after setting the mug and datapads back on the table.

“Always with the hull-breaches. We’ve had Zaeed, ‘the psychotic biotic’ and biotic and adolescent tank krogan on board and it’s _me_ you’re worried about?” Garrus gave him what passed as a turian smirk and leaned against the small bit of wall at the top of the steps as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well you have been known to butt-heads with the best of them.”

“When in Rome and all that.” Shepard shrugged before noticing the turian’s confused look as he bent to pick up the lamp by his feet and he elaborated. “It seemed appropriate at the time. Besides, it was a nice change up from all the metaphorical head-butting that used to go on around here.”

“I’m sure Wrex was just brimming with pride when he heard about that. You make a fine honorary krogan.”

“Damn straight.” They shared a laugh at that and Shepard propped a hip against his desk and fixing Garrus with a more serious expression. “So what brings you up here?”

“Well we had plans, but if you’ve got more messes to make I can always come back later.” Shepard’s eyes widened and he glanced at the clock on his desk. It was a lot later than he’d realized. While he was inwardly berating himself for not checking the time sooner, he was mildly impressed he had managed to get some whole five hours of sleep.

“No it’s fine, I just lost track of time. We can go right now.” He gave a cursory glance at the floor and desk to make sure he hadn’t missed anything (other than the spilled coffee which he made a mental note to clean up later) before pushing away from the desk.

“Sure thing, Shepard. But you may want to put a real shirt on first. It could get chilly.” Garrus gestured to his torso clad in only an undershirt and Shepard nodded at the reminder, turning and making his way towards the closet.

“Shepard,” Garrus’ faintly inquisitive voice was muffled as he leaned in to the closet. He hummed questioningly in response. “Nevermind,” the turian added after a long pause and Shepard shrugged it off along with a sense of deja vu.

The feeling dissipated as they left the ship and they talked about Garrus’ rather secretive plans as they made their way into the docking bay. They ended up spending quite some time on top of the presidium reminiscing and having a heart to heart. After Garrus had finished gloating, of course. When he’d put the gun away, Garrus pulled cold drinks from the cooler he’d had set up and tossed one towards Shepard who caught it deftly.

They sat on the ledge, feet dangling over the lake below and just talked. They talked about everything and nothing and reminisced in fond tones for a long while. Comfortable silences were exchanged for laughter and various topics time and again as they passed away the morning to the faint background noise of cars passing overhead and the trickling water of the fountains below. By mid-morning they each had a lineup of empty bottles next to them.

“You know, I was talking to James the other day while beating him at poker, for the third time in a row I might add. I told him about your standoff with Wrex on Virmire, which I’m surprised isn't a more popular tale, but he had a hard time believing it.”

“Why’s that? It’s hardly the most unbelievable thing that’s happened in the last few years. And he’s been there for some of it.”

“I think he became more skeptical when I told him you didn’t blink the whole time. You didn’t flinch, hell, you never even really pointed your gun at him.” Shepard huffed a small laugh.

“James has a rather high estimation of krogan. Not that they aren’t formidable, but I think he’s idolized them a bit. I can just imagine the face he’d have made if he’d been there when I let Grunt out of his tank.”

“Or the time you tried to tell him he couldn’t go drinking after his rite of passage.”

“He was a month old! I was simply being the responsible..er...you know.”

“Parent?” Shepard made a face and Garrus just laughed at him. “Aw, come on, Shepard, you didn’t do a half bad job. He’s all grown up now, and successful to boot.”

“Before I sentenced his company to death and almost got him killed in the process.”

“Rachni or not, you would never leave anyone to a fate like that, Shepard. It was necessary, and we got her support in the end.” Shepard looked down at his white knuckled grip around the neck of the bottle in his hands. He was holding it so tightly he was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. He wasn’t sure how genocide would have stacked up against other questionable things he’d done.

“I keep wondering how much numbers really weigh though, you know? Soldiers or civilians, offense versus defense, friends or innocents, one death or another, this race, that race, children versus adults. They can’t just be numbers. But weighing them? I’m not cut out for it. It’s different when it’s entirely personal, or impersonal, but this,” he gestured to the citadel and the galaxy around them with wide arms. “This is a mess.”

Garrus looked at him sympathetically. He put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder as he spoke. “Your heart is in the right place, Shepard, but none of us are walking out of this thing without regrets. You’re a good person who makes good choices no matter what they cost you. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I admire that about you.”

“Thanks, Garrus.” They were silent for a moment in which time it seemed Garrus had managed to track back the initial topic they had gotten off of and jumped back in on what he’d wanted to say on the matter.

“James did say that- oh, how did he put it…’I always knew krogan had hard heads, but damn.’ I suppose Wrex’s determination to cure the genophage makes more sense to him now.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we got the chance to make it up to him after that mess with Saren’s krogan.”

There was a long pause and Shepard stared down thoughtfully at the bottle in his hands dangling between his legs. His attention was partly drawn by the calming sounds of the fountains in the pool several stories below and his gaze shifted to his feet dangling over the edge. The artificial mid-morning sun sparkled on the water below and made him squint at the brightness of it.

“Could you have done it? If it came down to it, do you think you would have had to shoot him?” Garrus’ inquiry was thoughtful, but Shepard didn’t have to think about his response. He had thought about it plenty in the MAKO after it had happened, though he hadn’t thought about it much since considering how the mission ended.

“Wrex? No, I trusted him to see reason, trusted him to trust me, like with Kaidan. Though I think I’ve had enough of pointing my gun at friends for a lifetime.”

“Agreed,” he paused a thoughtful moment. “You do put a lot of trust in people, Shepard, you know that? Don’t get me wrong, it’s never steered us wrong before, but it’s awful risky sometimes.”

“I like to think I’m a good judge of character.” He said seriously before giving Garrus a sidelong look of playful suspicion. “Why, you plannin’ a coup or somethin’, Vakarian?”

“No, but I’d be careful joking about that around here. I can’t imagine they take those kinds of jokes too lightly anymore.” Garrus’ tone was light but held a note of seriousness and Shepard knew he was probably right.

“It’s fine. We’ll get Bailey to bail you out before they rough you up too much.”

“Well that’s comforting, but just so you know, if you got me thrown in jail, I’d take you down with me. Then where would we be?”

“Before or after I played the Spectre card?” Garrus made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff before growing serious again.

“Speaking of Spectres, did you see the vid of Kaidan’s induction ceremony?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry we missed it. I told him we’d try to get back in time for it.”

“In our defense, we were trying not to get eaten by Kalros at the time.”

“Personally, I was more concerned with the half-dozen brutes than the thresher maw.”

“Which is an impressive victory for the reapers considering how much you hate thresher maws.”

“Well Kalros did take care of the reaper, so that’s a point in her favor. Now if we could only put the rest of them to that kind of use we’d be in buisness.”

“We could always put out an ad. ‘Wanted: any and all thresher maws to drag reapers back to hell’,” Garrus pantomimed a big sign as he spoke and Shepard smiled just as his omni-tool chirped with a new message. He pulled it out and opened it, looking at the message he’d received from Kaidan.

_“We still on for lunch?”_ Shepard looked at the time and swore under his breath. He had just over an hour to take care of his errands and get back down to the presidium. He responded with a short affirmative and pulled himself up from the ledge.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to cut this outing short,” he stated as he held out a hand to Garrus to help him up. Garrus took the offered assistance and stood, walking to the cooler to put his now empty bottle back in it. Shepard did the same as Garrus spoke.

“Hot date, Shepard?” Shepard snorted and picked up the cooler, carrying it back over to the car.

“Don’t I wish,” he muttered it under his breath, then gave an actual response in a louder more casual tone. “No, just a friendly lunch outing.” Garrus gave him a skeptical look before rounding the vehicle and getting in. Shepard did the same and they made trivial conversation about various topics as they headed back towards the commons.


	6. I Just Want You to Know Who I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I gratuitously apologize for my horrible writing habits and insane schedule, but if it makes anyone feel any better, I promised myself when I started this that I'd finish it. Even if it takes me forever. I also apologize for some of the early dialogue in this chapter which may be a little odd or OOC, but I could not for the life of me get it to cooperate and finally got tired of messing with it. And for no particular reason (aside from its being appropriate and it being impossible for anyone to hate it) the song for this chapter is Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls. Chapter title taken from they lyrics.

 

And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now 

And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
And sooner or later it's over  
I just don't wanna miss you tonight 

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's meant to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

 

Shepard fought back violent jealousy when Kaidan broached the topic of relationships. It was a useless and irrational emotion to have considering their relationship, but he didn’t think he wanted to know where the conversation was headed. He wasn’t sure what he expected. Maybe for Kaidan to tell him he’d met someone, or to ask for him for advice. But he found himself floored when Kaidan continued.

“Maybe what I’ve never found, what I want, is something deeper with someone I already...care about.” Kaidan paused and looked at him with a deep and vulnerable expression in his dark eyes.  Shepard scrutinized the man from beneath his lashes as he reeled in shock, and it was only when he met Kaidan’s eyes that he stopped questioning whether he was hearing things. Kaidan seemed to have laid all his cards on the table. “That’s what I want. What do you want?”

Shepard’s mouth opened and closed half a dozen times as he tried to find a safe answer. He couldn’t seem to find his voice, however, and Kaidan’s brows furrowed somewhere between concern and disappointment. He couldn’t be certain they weren’t on completely different pages. His mind just couldn’t seem to accept it.

“I-You mean..you and me?”

“It feels right, doesn’t it?” Shepard was more surprised by this turn of events than he probably should have been. He and Kaidan had been guilty of a few exchanges that crossed the thin line between friendly banter and flirting over the past few weeks, but Shepard hadn’t thought much of it. Or rather, he had tried like hell not to read too far into it. It was battle field flirting, banter, nothing more than the types of conversations he and Garrus sometimes had. Except that while Shepard had meant his words during those conversations with Kaidan, he had never imagined Kaidan did.

“Yeah, it does,” he found himself saying. His tone awed, but sure. “It’d be nice to have someone to turn to when things get grim... someone to live for. I just never thought-I mean I assumed you- I mean-” He sighed, frustrated with himself for stuttering like an untried youth. Well, for all he lacked in youth he was arguably inexperienced in romantic matters. “Nevermind.” Kaidan let out a strained chuckle and raised an amused brow at him and Shepard was certain that if he’d ever been one to blush, he would certainly be well past scarlet just then.

“Someone?” Kaidan asked, the twinkle of mirth fading behind the uncertainty in his eyes.

“You, Kaidan.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. And there are benefits to that happiness.”

“Really?” His reply was coy in a manner he was surprised he could pull off, but it was a clear challenge. He wanted to know how serious Kaidan was about this. Evidently he had given the subject as much though as he gave everything judging by his coquettish look.

“Yes.”

“Hm, what did you call it? A sanity check?”

Kaidan smiled and shook his head in fond amusement as the waitress approached them. They ordered a few indulgences given that they were taking a day off from saving the galaxy and rescuing the helpless and performing other tiring heroic deeds. A silence fell between them after the woman had left and, to Shepard at least, it felt a bit awkward. Perhaps that was simply due to the questions niggling at the back of his mind, but Kaidan soon instigated a conversation and the feeling was lost to the comfort of familiar banter.

“So I saw Garrus leave the ship this morning with his rifle. Any clue what that’s about? I mean, I know most of us don’t go around unarmed these days, but he really had to sweet talk the C-sec officer in the docking bay to let him keep it.” Shepard laughed.

“Yeah, we spent the morning determining who was the better shot with it.”

“And?”

“And if the bottles ever rebel Garrus agreed to come dashing to my rescue.” Kaidan chuckled at that and accepted a mug from the waitress who had returned with their drinks with a smile of thanks. Shepard did the same and eyed the bottle in his hand critically for dramatic effect, which made Kaidan laugh again and Shepard couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

After that they kept conversation light throughout the meal. Talking about nothing of real note or consequence because everything of import around them was far from light-hearted. They shared stories of happier times and professional anecdotes that had both of them laughing and smiling more than either of them had in the last several weeks. Eventually they pushed their empty plates aside, but they lingered a while, still enjoying themselves too much to give up their brief reprieve and go back to work just yet.

Kaidan told him a childhood tale that ended with him covered in flour, because their family dog had evidently had it in for him. He told Shepard how much he’d hated fishing when his grandfather had tried to teach him as a kid, but that he’d loved his stories, loved spending time with him and listening him talk about how he’d helped establish Lowell city on Mars, about the first contact war and how much the world had changed in his lifetime.

Shepard basked in his enthusiasm and reveled in his smiles as he spoke. He tried to keep Kaidan talking, loving the way fondness and amusement softened his features as he spoke.

“So what was it like growing up on Earth?” He asked as Kaidan finished retelling a second hand story.

“It was busy, I guess. Mom was an engineer. Dad was away on and off on deployment. I took a lot for granted until I went off to BAaT. You overlook the little things until you’re surrounded by steel walls day in and day out on a station. I started appreciating it a lot more when I went back: the fresh air, the freedom, the noise of the city. But overall I can’t imagine it was too different from colony life. More people maybe.”

“Definitely more people. The town I grew up near had a population just over two thousand. And most of that was outlying farms.”

“Wow, small town. I suppose that makes sense for a farming colony though.”

“Yeah, the pioneer spirit was alive and well. The scenery was nothing to scoff at either, green fields and golden pastures that went on forever.” He caught a note of wistfulness in his own voice as he spoke.

“It’s been a long time since I had a chance to admire scenery.”

“It was beautiful, but a lot of hard work.”

“That’s true of most things worthwhile.”

“I suppose it is. It certainly makes people appreciate their free time more. You won’t find any other colony that takes festivities quite as seriously as as they did.” Shepard only noticed how strange that sounded after he’d said it. Kaidan seemed to notice the odd wording, but didn’t comment on it. “Everything from holidays and festivals to sports and even just relaxing was done enthusiastically,” he continued, smirking at a recollection as it came to mind. Kaidan raised a brow in question at the look. “Local kids used to sneak out to the pond in our pasture and go swimming,” he explained with amusement. “They weren’t always clothed.” Kaidan let out a surprised laugh, a carefree and open sound that had Shepard’s smirk morphing into a smile.

“You never did?”

“Sure, but never with them. And certainly not in _that_ pond.”

He and Kaidan shared a laugh and simply looked at each other then. It felt like some cliche freeze frame moment as their gazes held and something seemed to click inside him. Shepard’s posture mirrored Kaidan’s, forearms crossed on the table as he leaned forward. There wasn’t much space between them and Shepard wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap and kiss the lingering smile off Kaidan’s lips. He was almost sure the desire showed on his face, so out of habit he cleared his throat abruptly and leaned back in his chair.

“So, is this the part where I walk you home?” He asked coyly. “And by home, I mean back to the ship.”

“Hm, how chivalrous of you,” Kaidan said as he pushed away from the table. Shepard stood and offered Kaidan a hand and his most charming smile.

“What can I say, I’m a boy scout at heart.” Jack wasn’t always wrong.

“You have your moments.”

Kaidan took his hand and stood and they made their way across the plaza and up the steps. Their hands remained clasped together and Kaidan laced their fingers together, shooting Shepard a look out of the corner of his eye as he did so. Shepard couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach at the look and the way Kaidan’s thumb traced patterns across the now smooth skin of his knuckles. It was strange to be so close to Kaidan now after telling himself for so long that it was something he could never have and needed to stop wanting. Now, not only was it allowed, but encouraged and expected. It was different to say the very least, but it felt right.

He felt almost like a teenager again. That feeling he’d had at fifteen, walking hand in hand with Andrew Tetrin through the park, the smell of cotton candy and baked goods on the autumn breeze, the pale blue light of the triple moons illuminating the path ahead. He supposed the similarity was to be expected. This was, after all, only the second first date he’d ever been on. Not a particularly proud thought for someone his age, but with Kaidan, he couldn’t bring himself to be concerned about it. He relished the violent flutter inside of him that felt like a hundred Thessian glittermoths vying for escape, and the rapid hammering of his heart in his chest he could swear was out of rhythm. His face nearly hurt from the amount of smiling and laughing he’d been doing over the past couple of hours as he gave Kaidan a sly side glance in the elevator.

“So. Have _you_ ever gone skinny dipping, Kaidan?” Shepard swore he saw a fleeting blush paint Kaidan’s face before he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms casually.

“Hm, what do you think?” Kaidan’s playful tone gave away nothing as Shepard propped a shoulder against the wall and turned to face him.

“Before today, I’d have said no, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Oh? What’s so different about today?” Shepard just raised a brow at him. The fact that their friendly lunch date had turned into an actual _date_ spoke for itself.

“Ok, I see your point. No, I haven’t.”

“Maybe we’ll have to go sometime. Take a vacation on some remote garden world and put this mess behind us.” His best flirtatious tone was somewhat out of practice, but he felt he managed well enough if the look Kaidan gave him as he inched closer was any indicator.

“My, my, Shepard. One date and you’re already planning a romantic getaway.”

“What can I say, you bring out the romantic in me. Besides, you don’t seem too miserable for having spent the better part of an afternoon with me.”

“Maybe I’m just good at hiding it,” Kaidan deadpanned, but the effect was lost when a smile broke out on his face. Shepard met his gaze and the smile faded as the stare intensified.

Kaidan held his gaze evenly and Shepard had stepped closer before he even realized it. They were close enough that he could feel Kaidan’s breath against his cheek, coming a little faster than normal. The shallow breaths matched his own and Shepard suspected that if he were to lay a hand on Kaidan’s chest, he would find the other man’s heart beating at a pace to match his own, which was currently making a valiant attempt to pound its way out of his chest.

“First things first.” Kaidan’s whispered words barely registered before Shepard felt a hand at the nape of his neck and soft lips against his own.

Kaidan’s hand slid up to cup the back of his head. He hardly noticed the fleeting pain as fingers passed over the faint bruise on the back of his head as he melted into the sensation of Kaidan’s lips against his.

It started off as a gentle chaste meeting of lips, everything a first kiss should be, but it seemed to grow in intensity when Shepard slid his hands into Kaidan’s hair. He sighed softly against the lips pressed against his as he relished the feeling of soft ebony hair between his fingers. His imagination couldn’t hold a candle to the reality of this moment, and he had imagined similar situations more times than he cared to admit. Usually there was less clothing involved, but he’d take whatever he could get because reality was so much better.

That thought was only compounded when Kaidan took advantage of his sigh and traced his tongue across Shepard’s top lip. Shepard fought back an undignified sound and nipped at the retreating tongue as he slid a hand down Kaidan’s chest and around his back to pull him closer. A soft sound escaped Kaidan as they pressed together chest to chest, followed by his bold tongue again tracing the seam of Shepard’s lips. Shepard readily opened his mouth and the kiss deepened. Shepard used his grip on Kaidan’s hair to pull the man closer while at the same time pressing him back against the wall with his weight.

Kaidan pressed back, turning them, and Shepard quickly found their positions reversed as he was pressed into the corner. Kaidan boxed him in with one hand at his hip, the other resting at the nape of his neck, blunt fingernails scratching at the sensitive skin at the base of his skull near his amp. Shepard moaned into the mouth now nearly devouring his at the feeling, sparks of pleasure radiating from the sensitive spot and skittering out along his nerves and down his spine. His uniform pants became increasingly constrictive as he clutched at Kaidan’s back, pulling at the material of his uniform.

Shepard’s brain short-circuited seconds into the exchange and was no longer involved in the escalating exchange other than to maintain a steady disbelieving mantra of _thisisactuallyhappening_ in the back of his mind somewhere. His body, on the other hand, was fully present and wanted nothing more than to pull Kaidan as close as humanly possible, dispose of the clothing between them and paw at every inch of Kaidan’s exposed skin. Thankfully he was saved from doing something so drastic when the elevator chimed and informed them that they had arrived at the docking bay.

Kaidan extricated himself from where he was wrapped around Shepard and took a half step back, rightening his disheveled uniform as he did so. Shepard let his fingers slip from Kaidan’s hair, feeling a small surge of pride race through him as he noticed how disheveled the dark curls were, and how thoroughly well-kissed Kaidan looked. His dark eyes were still slightly unfocused and his wet kiss-swollen lips shone in the light.

“It would probably be an inappropriate use of authority to order the doors shut, wouldn’t it?” Shepard’s mutter came out as more of a rasp between breathless pants. Kaidan was breathing harshly as well and he met Shepard’s gaze as they righted themselves. Shepard’s pants felt uncomfortably tight as he straightened and watched as Kaidan tried and failed to get his hair into some semblance of orderliness.

“Probably,” Kaidan noted wryly as he gave up on his hair and let his hands fall to his sides once more. Shepard couldn’t fight the urge to run a finger over the small cluster of freckles above his right brow as he had wanted to do so many times before. His featherlight touch trailed down Kaidan’s cheek to trace his lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured idly. Kaidan seemed taken aback by the news, his eyes widening. Shepard pulled his gaze away from his lingering fingers when he heard voices nearing on the walkway from the docking bay. He placed a chaste kiss on Kaidan’s lips before they finally stepped away from one another and back into plain sight from their corner. With nothing but a silent glance they left the elevator, their temporary haven, and the lightheartedness of the afternoon behind.

“Did you ever finish that expense report you were working on the other day?” Shepard asked casually as they made their way past the shuttles.

“Half-way back to the ship and you’re already back on duty, I see.” Kaidan sighed half-heartedly. “No, I’m almost done with it. I plan on finishing it up tonight.”

“Not quite back to rank and file just yet, Alenko. I was just thinking; we could probably compile our reports. Seeing as we are on the same ship for the foreseeable future. Same ship, same places, same missions.”

“Same expenses,” Kaidan finished. “I suppose they’ll probably overlap quite a bit,” he noted wryly as they stepped into the decontamination chamber on the Normandy. Shepard gave him his best charming smile.

“Exactly. No need for excess paperwork. Not to mention it gives me an excuse to have you all to myself every once in awhile.”

“I see. Not quite back to the rank and file. Meet you in your cabin when you’ve got some time?”

“What happened to my being miserable company?”

“I lied.” Kaidan smirked and stole a chaste kiss before stepping into the hall. Shepard followed him out a moment later, tempering what he was pretty sure was a ridiculous looking grin as he walked towards the CIC.

He stopped to check his messages and made his way into the cargo bay a minute later, still feeling a little dazed processing the day's events and nursing a slightly dizzying buzz of happiness. Thankfully he’d managed to school his expression so he wasn’t grinning like an idiot.

He arrived in the cargo bay just in time to catch the end of a debate between James and Steve about tanks of all things. Unobtrusively he made his way over to the weapons bench and listened to Steve and James’ banter as he took his favorite gun apart to switch out a scope mod on it. Steve had the last word in the ongoing debate, a quip about James loving grizzly bears that made Shepard snigger. He could hear Steve doing the same from where he stood at the terminal behind him.

“You know, I can’t tell whether it’s funnier because he has no idea what you just implied, or if the look on his face if he did know would make it better,” Shepard pondered in an amused tone without turning, just loud enough for Steve to hear him. Steve let out a chuckle.

“It’s amusing enough without traumatizing Vega.”

“True. I do have to agree about the MAKO though. It was great for steep terrain and harsh climates, though the handling _was_ terrible.”

“I think you mean your driving is terrible, Shepard,” Garrus stated wryly as he entered the cargo bay.

“Eavesdropping, Vakarian? I didn’t see you successfully rush a hoard of geth to drive one through a mass relay. And I seem to recall you nearly running us off a cliff into a river of lava when I let you drive.”

“That, is because _I_ am a sane person, Shepard, and I didn’t _actually_ run us off the cliff now did I?”

“We’ll just blame it on the MAKO, then.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, Shepard. That cliff thing was a fluke. _You_ on the other hand…”

“Did just fine with the hammerhead, thank you,” Shepard interrupted.

“Yeah, sure, but the rest of us are still grateful to have Cortez around.”

“Thanks, Garrus,” Steve added with no small amount of amusement in his voice.

“So what are you doing down here? Something need calibrating?” Garrus fixed him with an unamused look.

“Something always needs calibrated. However, at the moment I’m here because Vega invited me down to kick his ass. Not just at poker this time.”

“Nah, you’re here for me to get my revenge, Scars,” James stated half playfully as he approached the terminals where the three of them stood.

“Big talk from a man who sat naked in the lounge for an hour yesterday,” Garrus said with a smirk. Steve snickered behind him and James put his fists up at the fighting words and began bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready for their spar.

James and Garrus made their way out into the center of the cargo bay for their match and Shepard walked around to lean back against the terminals and watch along with Steve.

“I thought you were taking the rest of the day off?” Shepard asked as Garrus and James began taking swings at one another.

“The club got busy and I had some things to do back here anyway.”

“Well at least you took a break.”

“Yeah, it was fun. Glad you stopped by. We should do it again sometime when you’ve got more time.”

“Yeah, definitely.” There was a brief pause in the conversation as they watched Garrus and James continue their sparring match, still dancing around each other dodging kicks and punches and trading verbal jabs.

“I heard you decided to take some of the day off too,” Steve said after a minute. The words themselves weren’t all that strange, but the hint of amusement in them had Shepard raising a brow and turning to look at Cortez. The other man had mirth twinkling in his eyes.

“What?”

“You and Kaidan?” Shepard cursed under his breath. Scuttlebutt traveled ridiculously fast. He threw his hands up in exasperation.

“I haven’t even been back twenty minutes. How does anybody get anything done around here with how much talking they do.”

“Multi-tasking,” Steve replied, humor still evident in his voice and on his face, “but that’s not making the rounds just yet. Don’t worry. I just asked Liara where you were off too in such a hurry when we were on our way back to the ship earlier. She said she saw you at Apollo’s.”

“It wasn’t like that.” It sounded more defensive than he’d intended. “Well, it didn’t start out that way at least.”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything Shepard. I’ve just seen the way you look at him. But I’m glad to hear it worked out.”

“Yeah, though I, uh,  didn’t actually have much to do with that,” he murmured. Steve looked stunned for a moment before a smirk gradually grew over his features. Shepard scowled a little but neither of them said anything for several more minutes as they went back to watching James and Garrus. “It...I wasn’t that obvious was I?” Steve chuckled at the question before growing serious.

“No, but I recognized that look.” Steve’s expression grew darker after he said it and Shepard decided to change the topic.

“Well, let’s just hope I don’t fuck it up,” he said as he straightened and prepared to leave the cargo bay.

“You’ll do fine, Shepard. He made the first move. He’s obviously thought it through.”

“Yeah.” With a farewell nod, he turned back towards the walkway and headed for the elevator. He paused when Cortez called out to him and he looked back at him.

“Shepard, I’m happy for you. And don’t worry, I’m not one to go gossiping about people’s personal buisness.”

“Thanks, Steve.” Moderately reassured by Steve’s confidence, he made his way back upstairs towards the pile of paperwork and reports that awaited him.

*******

“Hey Shepard, sorry to bother you so early.” Kaidan finally looked up from his datapad as he stopped just inside Shepard’s quarters. Shepard was dressed only in a loose pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, but despite apparently only having recently woken, he appeared absorbed in something at his terminal, standing hunched over the desk as he was. Kaidan waited only a moment before Shepard seemed to finish whatever he was doing and pulled himself away from his work to turn and face Kaidan with a smile.

“‘Morning Kaidan. What’s up?”

“I know it’s early, but I figured you’d be up and thought we could put this report together.” His practiced words were a bit rushed, though Shepard didn’t seem to notice as he turned and made his way down the stairs to his closet.

“Sure, though I doubt they’re waiting with bated breath for expense reports with everything else going on. Especially since all it’s going to do is explain in too many words that the allotted funds were redirected to refugees and medical centers.”

“How did you-” Shepard vaguely gestured back to the datapad in Kaidan’s hands as he dug through his drawers.

“You left your report in the SO last night. I glanced over it. I also had a talk with Bau about it a few weeks ago and he sent out that message about SPECTRES personally reallocating unused resources. Almost everyone agrees that that’s where the funds would have ended up anyway, but too long from now to be of much use considering how those things work. We decided to bypass the bureaucracy and send money and intel where we think it’s needed.”

Kaidan nodded absent-mindedly in agreement, not all that surprised that such a plan had Shepard’s name written all over it. Though, it was a little frightening what SPECTRES could manage with council resources when they all had similar goals. Not all of them were so benevolent of course, but they still channeled unused funds into defense systems, weapons, and the like. A common enemy certainly did a lot to bring people together.

The conversation put him at ease in the unfamiliar territory and he finally took the chance to really take in his surroundings as Shepard dug out a clean uniform. His gaze roved over the colorful array of fish in the aquarium and the spartan living area.

Shepard’s bed was neatly made. Bits of tech and datapads were laid out on the small desk near it on either side of what appeared to be a partially assembled model Turian fighter. He looked over the rest of the model ships in the office area, at least a dozen of them neatly arranged in display cases over the desk.

The desk itself was somewhat cluttered. At one end files, papers and datapads littered the space around Shepard’s terminal, accompanied by a smooth worn wooden puzzle ball that seemed oddly out of place. He gravitated towards the desk as he skimmed over the titles of the neatly arranged books and the case of various pins and medals Shepard had received over the years. Next to the case sat a cracked and scuffed up helmet Kaidan haltingly recognized as Shepard’s old one. He tried not to think too much about the last time he’d seen it.

Finally his gaze came to rest on the two  simple picture frames that sat, barely noticeable tucked away as they were, in the corner of the desk. The first picture was of three people he didn’t recognize, a woman and two men. The taller and larger of the two men stood in the middle, dark stubble on his face framing a broad grin reflected in his twinkling seafoam eyes, his unruly brown hair nearly long enough to fall across his brow. His arms were around his companions, who matched his smile. The shorter man was more plain looking with dark hair and eyes, though his smile made him more attractive than he likely would have otherwise been. The woman had a classical strong beauty, sharp features framed by long strawberry blond curls that fell around her shoulders. She and the shorter of the two men had helmets under their arms to match the armor all three of them wore, black and red, a clear N7 printed on their chest plates. Three red stripes adorned the left shoulder guard of the shorter man.

Though he recognized nothing, save the armor, about the first picture, he instantly recalled the second. Wrex  and Ashley were in the top corner of the picture, Ash smiling as she and Wrex clanked their mugs together, brown liquid splashing over the edges. He and Tali sat across from them at the table. A smile graced his own face while Tali had her head down and tilted to one side as if she were shaking it. Joker sat next to them, an encouraging fist raised in the air as he shouted something. Across from him Garrus was looking at Joker and gesturing to intoxicated duo next to him and saying something. Liara sat beside Garrus. Her head was tilted away from the camera as she looked down the table but her profile revealed the tilt at the corner of her lips as she smiled at them.

Shepard must have taken the picture, Kaidan realized, noting the empty chair across from Liara. The man in question had come up behind him as he scrutinized the pictures and stood close enough behind him that Kaidan could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“I remember this. This was that time Ash used my birthday as an excuse to drag us all out drinking even though it was a month away.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure when we’d dock again and she wanted to find out what you were like drunk.” Kaidan snorted at that as he turned around to face Shepard.

“Ironic considering I was the one who ended up carrying her back to the ship while she sang that awful song.” Shepard recalled that quite clearly. The fond smile tinged with exasperation Kaidan had had as he half carried her back to the crew quarters. Shepard had almost gotten his ass kicked in a sparring match with Garrus the next day thinking about that smile, rare as they’d been in those days.

“It was a pretty awful song, but then, drunken off-key singing never made anything better.”

“No it did not.” Kaidan chuckled before nodding back to the other picture behind him. “So who’s in the other one?” Shepard glanced over at the picture in question before looking away.

“Some old friends from spec ops. Jessica Barnes, Michael Jameson and... Ryan. Ackerman.” Kaidan raised a brow as he stumbled over the last name, but it quickly furrowed in thought.

“You’ve mentioned those names before, I think. When you-”

“Yeah. They died on Akuze.” Kaidan looked as if he were about to reply when his gaze was drawn by something over Shepard’s shoulder and he stared. Shepard turned to see two small wide eyes staring right back at Kaidan. He snorted at the exchange, his dark recollections fading from mind as he pulled the hamster out of his cage.

“When did you get a hamster?”

“A few months ago,” he explained as he scratched the small creature between the ears with a finger. “I don’t know what happened to him after we handed the ship over, but I found him down in engineering a few weeks ago. I don’t think he’s forgiven me for that quite yet.” The hamster gave a squeak that sounded suspiciously like an accusation. “I think he likes you though. He usually hides from visitors.”

With one last scratch Shepard put the creature back in his cage and looked back at Kaidan who gazed at him fondly. Shepard gave him a questioning look.

“I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of this side of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The person you bury under the title and everything that comes with it. The side that likes poetry, and hamsters, and cares so much about everything.” Kaidan’s tone was soft, his expression fond and tender in a way Shepard had never seen. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Never in his life had he imagined Kaidan would ever look at him like that, the way Shepard often looked at him when no one was watching. He replied in an equally quiet tone.

“And I’ll be seeing more of the new you.”

“The new me?”

“There was a point in time when you never would have set foot in my quarters. You hardly ever smiled or talked about yourself.”

“I could almost say the same thing about you.”

“Yeah, but I really had to twist your arm to get you to speak candidly, even in private. You’re more...” he paused, searching for the right word to encompass the many changes he saw in Kaidan after the years they’d spent apart, “confident now.”

“I suppose it comes with rank. Actually...You had a lot to do with it, Shepard.”

Shepard nodded, not entirely surprised by the admission. Though he didn’t need any reminder of how unreasonably hot he found it that Kaidan outranked him now. Kaidan’s newfound assertiveness and confident stride were major focal points of several fantasies that tried his sanity like nothing ever had. He didn’t want to rush Kaidan though. He got the distinct impression that Kaidan had never even contemplated a relationship with another man before. He was hard to read sometimes, but something about the way he’d confessed his feelings to Shepard, combined with what little information he had about the man’s past relationships suggested it.

So he was determined to let Kaidan take the lead in all aspects of their fledgling relationship. Even if that determination gave him long stretches of time to contemplate that decision in bed at night and during rare and coveted long showers when he wrapped a hand around himself and came moaning Kaidan’s name.

Something in his previous thoughts must have shown on his face, because Kaidan fixed him with an intense scrutinizing look. He took that as his cue to change the topic and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Speaking of seeing more of eachother, I was thinking. We had fun yesterday, right?”

“Yeah,” Kaidan said fondly with a smile and a nod.

“Then we should do it again some time.”

“Was there a question in there?”  Kaidan’s tone and expression were teasing and Shepard returned them with a look of mock sternness, purposefully ignoring the question.

“I’m not sure when we’ll get around to docking again, but it’ll definitely be too long to wait for a second date. I was thinking we could scrounge up something to eat in the mess one of these nights, have a quiet evening, maybe watch a vid.” Shepard’s expression as he hedged around the question was guarded. His customarily confident posture was somewhat uneasy as he crossed his arms and propped a hip against his desk.

Kaidan had made the first move but he was uneasy about commitments, or at least he used to be. And Shepard had come to distrust being able to keep anything or anyone he cared for. He wanted to leave the man a way out, even if it hurt him to do so. He knew their newfound relationship would require some give from both of them in those respects. It was a strange shift in their convoluted dynamic of pining and friendship and mended trust. But Shepard wanted this. He’d wanted it for so long now he was sure it would kill him not to put every bit of his determination and blind faith into making it work. And when Kaidan replied in a sure tone without any hesitation, Shepard’s unease melted once and for all to nothing but a puddle at his feet he could finally step away from.

“That actually sounds perfect, Shepard.”

“Thirty minutes out from Gellix, Commander. Looks like an early start today.” The smile slipped from Shepard’s face at Joker’s interruption over the comm.

“Is Garrus up?” Joker snorted at the question.

“Are you kidding? I’m not convinced he even sleeps. He was talking to EDI when I got up here this morning.”

“Alright. Tell him to be ready in fourty.”

“You got it, Commander.” Shepard looked back at Kaidan with a resigned sigh.

“Well we’d better hurry up with this report or it’ll never get done.”


End file.
